


The Other Sammy

by Rini, Saklani



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 47,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rini/pseuds/Rini, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saklani/pseuds/Saklani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Sammy Winchester is taken from his father and brother when he's a toddler.  Dean never recovers from the loss, until one day, grown-up Dean meets a college student named Sam Diablo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Sammy

Sam Winchester sat on the lumpy motel bed, tongue stuck out in concentration as he carefully colored in a page of his Happy Rabbit coloring book.  Dean had promised him mac 'n cheese with links in it for dinner, if he could sit quietly and color an entire page of his book.  He looked forward to showing his brother the result, even as he made Floppy Rabbit's ears bright red. 

Dean was in the kitchen, gathering dishes while standing on a chair from the kitchen table.  Sam was being quiet in the other room just as Dean had asked, and he was happy about that since their Dad was due home any minute. Dean knew that if Sammy was being too noisy, it'd be a rough night.  He climbed down from the chair and started to get the dinner food out of the cupboards.

Sam looked up with a cry of fright as the door banged open and John Winchester rushed in.  "Dean!  Grab your and Sammy's stuff!  Now!" he yelled, and Sam curled into himself, eyes wide, as his father began stuffing weapons into his bag much less carefully than he normally did.

Spurred into action, Dean jumped off the chair, food flying while he flung himself down the hall into the bedroom.  "S'okay Sammy," he cried out while he flew by.  He shoved whatever he could reach into the two duffel bags that always sat out by the dressers, remembering to grab a couple of Sam's favorite toys and all of his clothes.  Dean ran back down the hall.  "In the car?" he asked, waiting by the door.

"This is the police!"  a loud voice suddenly boomed from outside.  "We have the place surrounded!"  
   
"Out the bathroom window!" John yelled, grabbing Sam around the waist.  His crayons and coloring book went flying, even as he began to cry in screaming wails of fright.

Dean nodded and carried the bags back down the hall toward the bathroom.  His last glimpse of Sam was him in Dad's arms while he cried.  Dean vowed that he'd hold Sammy close and let him sleep with him that night to make up for Sam being scared and not getting his mac ‘n cheese and links.

"Sam, be still and quiet!" John barked, and Sam tried, he tried so hard to obey his father.  But when the door burst open and John banged him against the wall and dropped him to the floor, he began to wail again.  "Deeeeee!"

Hearing Sam cry for him, Dean threw the bags out the window and then started climbing up.  He hated that he wasn't there for his Sammy, but Dean knew that he'd be in a lot of trouble if he looked back.  Dad would get Sam and then they'd be on their way.

Sam saw John turn to retrieve him, just as other people entered, yelling out words that he could not understand through his fear.  His father hesitated and then whirled back, heading after Dean.  Sam's eyes widened further, not understanding why Dean and John weren't coming back for him.  He tottered to his feet and started after them, but didn't make more than a step before someone swept him up in strong arms.  "No!  De!  De!"

Dean ran, calling back to Sam that everything was okay, completely unaware that John didn't have Sam in his arms.  He barreled to the car, opening the backseat and throwing the bags in before he climbed in after them.  Waiting for their Dad to hand Sam in, Dean blinked in surprise when John jumped behind the wheel.  "Dad, where's Sammy?"

"We'll go back for him," John said grimly and tore out of the parking lot.  Sirens flashed behind them, as two police cars pulled out behind them.  "I promise, Dean, we'll go back for Sammy."

Kneeling up on the seat and watching their house fade into the night, Dean cried hard for Sam.  He'd left his brother alone, hadn't gone back to help him, to carry him like he usually did, and now, Sammy was lost to them.  A small kernel of anger and hate started forming in his gut because their dad had left Sam behind.

John glanced once at Dean, even as he weaved through the streets to escape the pursuing law enforcement.  "We will save Sammy," he repeated to himself in a low tone, but in his heart, he knew better.  He'd left Sam behind.  He'd lost Mary's precious baby.  And they would never get him back.  
~~~~~~~~~~

Sam Diablo woke up with a cry of 'Jess!' still ringing in his ears.  He scrubbed his face and slowly acclimated to his situation- new apartment (since the old one was so much ash and rubble), no Jess (since she was only so much ash, too) and another nightmare fading into the darkness.  His rubbing fingers encountered the burns on his neck, and he pulled them away with a disgusted noise.  If the neighbors hadn't burst in and pulled him out of the apartment, he would have gone up with Jess and everything else.  He wished he had...  
   
With a sigh, he hauled himself up and headed to the kitchen for a drink of water.  The stillness of the apartment bothered him in a way he hadn't felt since he was fourteen and living with the foster family who used the state's money to go out partying every other night.  Sam smirked a little when he thought of them, languishing in jail and probably still wondering who had ratted them out.  Couldn't possibly have been quiet, gawky, geeky Sammy Diablo.  Even if he had decided to name himself after the devil, thinking of how his first foster family referred to him as a 'little devil' after his tenth escape attempt.

Sam drank the water, washing away the lingering taste of smoke.  He squeezed his nose and shut his eyes tightly, trying to contain the tears that always wanted to leak out lately.  With a deep, shuddering breath, he headed for the living room to watch some mind-numbing television.  His heart ached, the hole that Jess had filled gaping open again.  She had meant everything to him, made him whole in ways he had never been before... except sometimes in faint, half-remembered moments, when someone else held and protected him from the evils of the world. 

Dean Winchester leaned against the side of the Impala, one ankle crossed over the other while he stared at the burned out ash of the apartment he and John had read about.  He glanced around to be sure no one was watching and then moved silently around the place to check for signs of supernatural activity.  Satisfied that it was, indeed, something that would bear looking into, Dean headed back to his car.  He had another place, another person, to look at.

Pulling to a stop in front of Samuel Diablo's apartment building, he watched the flickering light in a small window and wondered why the guy was still awake.  Dean also couldn't help but wonder if this was his Sammy... though he'd long ago given up hope of finding his brother.  A wave of bitterness rose in him and he cursed, grabbing the slip of paper with Diablo's number on it and dialing before his anger drove him to the nearest bar.

His cell phone ring startled Sam, and he jumped a little, before frowning at the offending object.  Figuring it was a friend calling to check up on him, he picked it up without reading the number and said, "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Samuel Diablo?" Dean asked, knowing full well that Sam lived alone.

"Uh, yeah," Sam said with a little frown at the unfamiliar voice. "And who is this?"

"Name's Dean Winchester, and I was wondering if we could meet and talk about the fire." Dean knew it was risky asking straight out, but if Samuel said no, he'd just 'bump' into him the next day.

Sam froze at the word 'fire' and asked softly, "Are you a journalist? I said I didn't want to talk to anyone from the media."

"No, not a journalist," Dean said and then went with gut instinct. "I lived through a similar fire, lost my mom and just wanted to ask you a couple of questions."

"You- what?" Sam asked and took a deep, shaky breath. "A similar fire? What do you mean?"

"I read some of the details, saw that they said it was an electric fire, but there was no hard evidence." Dean dropped his head, hating for the first time that he was possibly duping someone. "That's the same as mine."

Sam shook his head, even though the man on the other end of the line couldn't see him. "That's not enough to tip anyone off," he said.

"I've been researching fires like this one around the country. Just trying to make sense of what happened to my mom." Dean bit his lower lip, not sure what might sway Sam.

And Sam could understand that, the need to make sense of what was by its very nature senseless. He didn't really think he could do the other guy any good, except maybe... maybe talking about it with someone else who had lost someone might help. "Yeah, I get that," he said.

Dean smiled and sighed his relief. "It's late, and I don't want to keep you, but if you have time tomorrow I'd like to talk."

Sam snorted a little, thinking of how not asleep he was at the moment. "I have class until two, but I can talk with you afterward."

"That'd be great. You name the place, and it's my treat." Dean flicked his thumb over his lip, looking up at the light and wanting, inexplicably, to see Sam then.

"How well do you know Stanford?" Sam asked. "Cause there's this tiny little Thai place just beyond the university grounds..." He choked on the words, remembering all the times he and Jess went there. "Meet me on the library steps at 2:30."

Dean breathed out.  "Of course, I'll be there waiting for you."   Sam snorted a little and said, "I don't even know why I'm meeting up with you, but I’ll see you there... Dean."

"Thanks again, Sam.  I won't take too much of your time."  Dean hung up the cell phone, still staring up at the apartment with an odd sense of need.  He shook his head, started the Impala and drove to the motel he'd checked into earlier that day. He felt odd, lonely, especially since he'd started to take more and more cases away from John, but in many ways Dean preferred it.  The loneliness gave him time to think about little Sammy and the privacy to dig into what happened to him.  
~~~~~~~~~~

Sam stood on the steps to the library and gazed into the distance, mind far away from his current reality.  He had dreamed again last night, but for once, it wasn't about Jess.  Instead, he dreamed about a little boy with green eyes, one who called him Sammy and kept him away from the harsh reality of life.  It was a dream he hadn’t had in years, and he wondered why it had come to him again last night.  He also wondered why he was standing here, waiting for a stranger who wanted to talk to him about the fire that ended Jess' life.  His fingers reached up to trail over the burns on his neck. 

Dean stared at the tall guy standing on the steps and figured he was Samuel Diablo, given the burns on his neck.  He took a deep breath and gazed at him from afar, wondering if this could possibly be his baby brother.  Shaking off the desire to get his Sammy back, Dean shoved his hands into his pockets and walked up the steps.  "Sam Diablo?" he asked quietly.

Sam turned at the sound of his name and blinked when he found himself staring into eerily familiar green eyes.  Shaking off the feeling, he held out his hand and said, "You must be Dean."

"Yeah. Thanks again for meeting me."  Dean shook Sam's hand and fought off the shiver that ran down his spine.  In the moment, his libido was the last thing he wanted to deal with, no matter how gorgeous this Sam was.  "Should we go get some food?"

"Yeah."  Sam led Dean down the steps and out across campus.  "Where are you from?" he asked, curious to know from how far away this Dean had tracked him down.  

Dean hesitated for a moment and then told the truth.  "I was born in Kansas, but I've traveled most of my life.  Recently I was in Arizona, and I'm not sure where I'll be after this."

Sam frowned and glanced over at Dean, stomach fluttering a little.  "You travel everywhere trying to find out what happened to your mother?"

"Yeah, Dad and I have been trying to figure it out for a long time now and hearing about your fire was the first clue I've had in awhile."  Dean knew that he couldn't really tell this stranger about the things that drove him, though he found himself wanting to tell Sam.

Sam swallowed a lump of disquiet and pushed back his unruly hair from his face.  "Isn't that kind of weird?  Just traveling everywhere, trying to find out what happened to your mom?"

Dean shrugged, shoulders hunching slightly in defense.  "It is, but I've never known another life, so it's the one I live."

Confused by the statement, Sam decided to let it pass, since it really wasn't any of his business.  "What do you want to know from me?"  He directed Dean down a small street as they left the campus behind.  
   
"Can you tell me what you remember?"  Dean asked, well aware that it was likely a sensitive subject.

Sam looked away and fought down a torrent of emotions, breathing deeply until it passed.  "We're here," he said, as they arrived at the Thai restaurant.  "I need something in me, if I'm going to tell you everything."  He went inside and headed for his usual table.  
Dean blinked, gaping slightly, and then hurried into the restaurant after Sam.  He sat across from the other guy and grabbed a menu, looking over some of the meat dishes and settling on something that looked pretty basic.  "What do you normally get?"

Sam looked down at the menu and blinked back more tears, remembering the way Jess and he always spilt the same menu items.  "I don't think I'll be ordering what I normally get anymore," he said.  "Normal got pretty much obliterated for me.  I think I'll have some Pat Kii Mao with tofu today."  He smiled weakly at Dean.  "Everything here is good."

"Thanks, and I'm sorry for bringing up to some tough memories.  I know it's still fresh for you, but I want to figure out what happened."  Dean smiled his flirtatious smile at the waitress, got his order of Pad-See-Ew with beef and a coke in and then sat back to look at Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes as Apsara, their regular waitress, blushed and looked away from Dean's flirting.  He leaned back in the booth and studied Dean with an intense, hazel gaze.  "I should ask you why this means so much to you, what's so important that I should spill my darkest day... well, one of them, to you, a complete stranger."

"If you don't think trying to make sense of my mother's death is enough, then there's nothing I can say to convince you, and you shouldn't tell me anything at all."  Dean took a breath.  "Right now, you are the most recent connection that I might be able to make."

"A lot of people lose someone to fire and other things without making it their life's work to find out why."  Sam shrugged and looked away, brushing hair out of his face.  "I just think there was something in particular about the fire that makes you try and find answers."

Dean sighed.  "The fact that there was no evidence of why the fire started... or how."  He looked down at his hands.  "That rings false to me when it keeps happening, when I keep finding that."

"Nothing else?" Sam asked.  "Nothing like your mom being pinned to the ceiling, torn to shreds?"  His voice shrank to a whisper.  
Closing his eyes, Dean felt the remembered pain of hearing John talk about it.  "Yeah, that has something to do with it too.  I wasn't sure if you'd seen that or if it'd happened in your case."

Sam's fists bunched under the table, and he put them in his lap, pressed tightly against his legs.  "I came home from a late night of studying, preparing myself for my law school interviews, and flopped on the bed, happy to be home.  And then something splashed on my face... something wet and thick."

Dean's throat closed at the thought.  He nodded, swallowing hard, but hoping to encourage Sam to continue.

Sam shook and forced himself to continue, the words clogging his throat.  "I opened my eyes, and Jess was on the ceiling, all slashed up, blood dripping everywhere... including on me.  And then she was on fire.  Flames all over the ceiling, over her body.  I just lay there, staring."  He closed his eyes and shuddered.  "I would have just sat there and been burned alive, too, if the neighbors hadn't come."

"Jesus," Dean breathed, wanting to reach out and comfort Sam.  "Sounds like my mom."

Sam barely registered Dean's words, lost in his own memories.  "And there was someone else in the room, too," he whispered.  "I know it... no matter what anyone else says."

Dean shivered, nodding unconsciously.  "That's what I want to find out, Sam.  I want to figure out what the hell happened because that sounds almost exactly like my mom's death except she was bleeding on my baby brother."

Sam looked up at Dean sharply, eyes narrowed and suspicious.  "When I tried to tell anyone else, they acted like I was in shock or losing my mind.  You're telling me there was someone else there?"

Biting his lower lip, Dean decided to be honest again.  "Yeah, I think there was.  I think that whoever was there is the one who set the fire, killed your girlfriend.  But I can't find any evidence on it, him, them... whatever.  That's one of the reasons I've searched out these cases."

"You think someone is out there, deliberately setting fires to kill people?" Sam asked in a worried rush.  "Someone who leaves no evidence behind?"

"Maybe," Dean hedged.  He didn't want to alarm Sam, but also didn't want to start lying now.  "I think these fires are set purposefully, and I'm trying to figure out the pattern as well as the culprit."

"Which is the same as yes," Sam said, lips twitching upward.  "Don't try to doubletalk a future lawyer.  Tell me... about your mother.  And what happened to the brother you mentioned?  Did he die, too?" 

Dean teared up.  "No, he didn't die.  I don't know where he is."  He cleared his throat.  "I was only four when Mom died, and I don't remember much.  Dad saw her pinned to the ceiling and bleeding.  He grabbed my brother, shoved him in my arms and told me to run outside and keep him safe."

Sam blinked, the words echoing in his head, and then frowned.  "Four?  How long have you been tracking the person who killed your mother?"  He noticed the tears gleaming in Dean's eyes and felt a pang of shared sorrow.  "And uh, hey, I'm sorry about your brother... and your mom, too."  
   
"Thanks.  Dad's been tracking it ever since... and I grew up with that, so now, I do it, too."  Dean smiled at the waitress when she brought their food, digging into it for a momentary distraction of the memories of losing his Sammy.

Sam watched Dean devour his food, even as he picked at his own, appetite gone since Jess' death.  He’d lost about ten pounds since October, and even the goodies of the holiday season had not persuaded his hunger back.  "Your father is a bounty hunter?"  
Dean nodded, wiping his mouth with his napkin.  "Yeah, something like that.  He hunts down bad guys."

Sam blinked and ducked his head toward the table.  "So, now you know that whoever killed your mother was here in October.  But it doesn't really help you track him down, does it?"

"Every bit helps, Sam, trust me.  Twenty-odd years of tracking him and every bit helps."  Dean sipped at his coke and looked right at the other guy.  "What made you think someone else was there?"

Sam shivered and looked away for a long time.  "Yellow eyes.  I saw a man with yellow eyes," he finally admitted.  "I swear, he was there, right by the flames, just looking at me.  And then... I don't know, the neighbors were pulling me out and everything got so confused.  When I mentioned it to the police... they thought I imagined him."

 _A man with yellow eyes._ Dean shivered.  "Yeah," he croaked.  "Sounds like some other accounts we've heard."

"Nobody has yellow eyes," Sam said fiercely.  "Not unless they have jaundice.  And even then.  These weren't... fuck, they weren't fucking human!"  He slammed a hand, palm down, on the table.

Dean arched his eyebrow.  "You don't think the color was a reflection of the flames, then?  That's what everyone else assumes."

Sam faced down Dean with a glare that would freeze the blood of a lesser man.  "I know the difference, even if I was shocked.  That wasn't a reflection."  
   
Shrugging his shoulders and nodding, unconcerned with Sam's glare, Dean offered a small smile.  "I don't think it was a reflection either, but you're the first person to not rationalize out what you may have seen."

Sam scowled and pushed more food around his plate.  "Everyone else thinks I'm crazy or too grief-stricken to know my own mind.  I should let them meet you..."  He laughed softly, but not humorously, at the idea.

"They won't believe me any more than they believe you.  People don't want to believe - that's the problem."  Dean shrugged, slightly uncomfortable with how easy it was to keep letting Sam in on details that he didn't often share.

"Don't want to believe what?" Sam asked, leaning forward.  "What really happened to your mother and Jess?"

Dean shrugged and finished his drink.  "No one wants their neat little view of the world to be disrupted, and they'll do or see or think anything to keep it in a nice tidy package."

Frustrated with Dean's evasions, Sam asked outright, "What do _you_ think killed them?"  
   
Dean stared at Sam for a minute and then sighed.  "A demon."

Sam spluttered for a moment, thinking Dean was joking at a completely inappropriate moment, and then stopped as he studied Dean's expression.  "You're serious," he whispered.  "Jesus."

Dean shrugged his shoulders, not really wanting to discuss it in public.  He nodded slightly.

"Fuck."  Sam chuckled a little, harshly.  "I've heard some pretty fucked up shit in my life.  Hell, I've been involved in a lot of fucked up shit... but a demon.  Jesus.  That's a new level of fuckeduppedness."

"You don't have to believe me, Sammy," Dean said, the nickname slipping out without his meaning it to.

"But that's the problem... I do."  Sam dropped his eyes to the table and whispered, "I have the strangest dreams sometimes.    
Dreams that leave my head aching for hours and my heart racing.  Dreams about things... dark things that kill people."

Dean's breath caught in his throat, and he stared at Sam's head.  He blew the breath out steadily and then looked back down at his food, moving his own around the plate slowly.  "Sounds like that kinda sucks."

"The first one I had was of Jess... Jess on the ceiling, burning to death.  I thought my imagination had taken a turn for the mentally unstable."  Sam barely noticed the tear trickling down his right cheek.  "Until she really was there."

"Makes sense... you wouldn't have expected a nightmare to come true like that."  Dean kept his gaze down, not wanting to make Sam uncomfortable.

"But if that one came true... does that mean all the others are happening for real, too?"  Sam shuddered at the idea and swigged a quick drink of soda.  "All those things I see... the way people die... are those all happening?"

Dean shrugged.  "I have no idea, Sam.  I really don't, but it's something I could look into for you."

"How do you look into it?" Sam asked.  "I mean, where do you go to find shit like that out?"

"My dad's got a lot of info, some people he knows.  I research stuff at the library, look stuff up in the newspaper.  It's a lot of leg work."  Dean shoveled a bite into his mouth though he wasn't really tasting it anymore.

"I'm good at research," Sam said, "and want to know what's going on with me.  What's ruined my life, now that it was finally starting to go well."

Dean hesitated.  "Yeah, okay.  We can look into it together."

Sam blinked, stared and then blinked again.  "Really?  I don't have to argue with you about it?"

Shrugging, Dean shook his head.  "If you're going to school here, you're pretty smart.  I'd be stupid not to take the help... or give it where it’s needed."

Sam frowned and leaned back in the booth, studying Dean intently for the first time since he had met him.  "You think we'll find an answer to my nightmares in the Stanford library?"

"Maybe. Depends on how current they are and how much national stuff they have."  Dean grinned slightly.  "I'm sure they've got some materials in there that I've never gotten my hands on before."

Sam made a face and asked, "How can you tell the difference between the stuff that is real between what's made up or wrong?"  
Dean shrugged.  "Sometimes you can't.  A lot of it's trial and error and often a good bit of being knocked on your ass."

"Sounds awesome," Sam said and pushed his plate aside, signaling for their check.  "So, how do we start?"

"No wasting time, huh?"  Dean pushed his plate away, too, and then sat back.  "Well we should probably talk about your dreams/visions and stuff."

"What do you want to know about them?" Sam asked.  "They're strange... not real, but not quite dreams either.  I never get any warning about when they'll happen.  Sometimes I only have them once... sometimes multiple times.  The first one was about Jess, but since then... I have them more and more often." 

Dean rubbed his thumb over his lower lip while he thought about it.  "Give me an example of one you had a few times." 

"There was one about a lake, deliberately drowning people.  Well, something in the lake anyway."  Sam shook his head and shivered.  "Had that about four times in one week."   

"What kind of detail do you get from the dreams?" Dean asked. 

"They're completely vivid.  But I can't always tell where they are.  In fact, I usually can't."  Sam sighed and rubbed his face.  "But I always see all the death.  And it always makes me sick, and my head aches for hours after." 

Dean sighed.  "That's gonna take some more doing, but if we can get online and find some national papers that'll give us a wide view of odd happenings." 

"You mean, you want to see if the things I saw really happened?"  Sam bit his lower lip and then nodded.  "I guess that makes sense.  And if they're real?" 

"Then it means that you're seeing some fucked up shit, and it might be possible to save some people."  Dean shrugged and then stood up from the table. 

Sam frowned and began to follow after Dean.  "Save some people?  What do you mean?" 

"Well, if you're seeing things before they happened, like you did with the fire, then some of those people are likely not dead."  Dean led them out of the restaurant, though he stopped on the sidewalk. 

"So you want me to let you know whenever I have a dream that might be foretelling people's deaths?" Sam asked, stopping next to Dean. 

Dean sighed.  "Well, it'd help with the research, especially if you have another fire dream." 

Sam frowned a little deeper.  "Wait... what would you do even if I could tell where my dreams were based and everything?" 

"It's what Dad and I do while hunting the thing that killed Mom." Dean shrugged and then looked up and down the street.  "So, back to the library?" 

"Whoa, wait, what is it exactly you do?" Sam asked, grabbing Dean's right arm.  He shivered as a strange sensation raced up and down his spine. 

Dean cleared his throat.  "We go around saving people from supernatural beings." 

Sam shut his eyes and tried to breathe through the panic in his veins.  Demons, monsters, nightmares that were real, people who hunted the same and in particular, the man in front of him, who made his heart race strangely.  "Okay, I may need to lay down for a minute." 

"Yeah, okay. I can understand you need to process it." Dean took a breath. "You want to go back to your place? You can meet me in the library later."

The offer sounded tempting, but Sam shook his head after a moment's consideration. "So, how do you find stuff to, uh, hunt?

"Mostly the paper or online." Dean shrugged. "If you know what to look for, you find all kinds of things."

"And you'll show me what to look for," Sam said. "I want to help you, Dean. I want to track down whatever killed Jess and destroy him... it."

Dean nodded, hands shoved into his pockets. "Of course, you can come along and help me fight it."

Sam blinked and then narrowed his eyes at Dean. "I mean it, Dean. I want to learn about monsters and how to fight them. That thing killing Jess... it destroyed the one person I loved. The only one who loved me. I haven't got a single fucking reason to go on living... except to destroy it, now that I know it was something and not faulty wiring."

Scowling at Sam, Dean narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about? I already said you could join me."

"I want to be sure you know I mean it," Sam said. "I know this hunting stuff... well, it can't be easy and it's got to be dangerous. You can't just go letting anybody help you with crap like that. But I'm smart... and I'm tough. I've had to be. So, I 'm not going to get in your way or anything."

"Fine, I've said okay three times now. Can we get to the library and start looking things up?" Dean arched his eyebrow at Sam. He was a bit surprised by how adamant Sam was, but knew he'd at least be good for some research.

Sam nodded and said, "We should start with the reference librarian in the main library branch. She'll be able to tell us if they have any special collections or anything. Where do you usually start?"

"Online newspapers, but since this is a bit of a different case... why don't you chat with the librarian, and I'll do some checking to see if there's been any more fires."

"And how about for background information? Myths? Legends? Stuff like that? Cause they have a huge collection of stuff like that and even more through connections to other libraries."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, that stuff'll help, but we've got to try and narrow the focus down. Once we get some ideas of what you might've been seeing then we'll know which legends to research."

"Don't you think it might be a good idea to look at everything they have at Stanford? I mean, gather up information on all the different monsters in one go. You can put together a complete library of information." Sam knew he sounded like a nerd, but thought it was a sensible idea.

"And then the trail on the demon goes cold, and the people you're dreaming about are dead." Dean sighed. "I don't disagree that having the information is important, but the longer it takes, the more bad shit can and will happen."

"Yeah," Sam said with a sigh. "I guess that makes sense. Except, isn't the trail already cold? It's been almost two months since Jess died."

"Twenty years in, Sam. It's not like I'm going to give up on this." Dean shrugged and started toward the library again.

"I never said you were going to give up, asshole," Sam snarled right back, easily keeping up with Dean. "But it's hard to get a scent after two months, and I don't really think anything I told you helped."

Dean sighed. "You know what, never mind. Have a nice life here at Stanford, Sam." He shrugged his shoulders. "I'll just head off and find him myself."

"What the hell, man?" Sam demanded.

"You don't trust me. I get it, but I don't need it," Dean said. "If two months was enough for that trail to go cold, then I never would have called you."

Sam stared at him for a long moment, eyes hot and angry. "So, you're happy to drop in, tell me, oh hey, a demon killed your girlfriend, find out that I have crippling visions or something about the things you hunt and then waltz out cause hey, you don't need the aggravation. Yeah, you're a great hero. I bet your brother and mom would be real proud of you."

Dean scowled. "Fuck you. You're the one who's wasting fucking time standing here asking me about whether or not we should make an archive of legends instead of actually researching the one thing in the here and now, which is the death of your girlfriend." He shoved his hands in his pockets and then stormed off toward the library.

Sam watched Dean leave and then sighed, wiping his face with one hand. "Nice going, Diablo. Oh well... it's not like I'd be a good partner anyway. I'll just have to learn about this crap myself."   
~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, Sam dropped a huge book, titled "Malleus Maleficarum" on the table where Dean was looking at some newspaper clippings. "It's rare, ancient and nearly impossible to get Stanford to even let you glance at. So, I figured you'd never seen it."

Dean looked at the book, blinking at it before he turned to look up at Sam. "Yeah? Definitely nothing I've seen before." He pulled it in front of him and thumbed through the pages slowly.

Sam turned the chair across from Dean around and straddled it, leaning on the back with folded arms. "It's pretty powerful stuff, if you can believe it all. According to that, people like me have cropped up from time to time in history. Calls the things I have visions, says I'm connected to the yellow-eyed freak somehow. When you read it in the original latin, it's even scarier than this translation."

"Doesn't surprise me, and yeah, I'd believe everything in this book." Dean thumbed over it again, scanning the titles of several pages before looking back up at Sam. "Thanks," he said, meaning it.

"I'm not the easiest person in the world to get along with," Sam said, "but I've got my reasons. Beyond Jess. And you should have a partner. It'd be easier for two."

Dean nodded. "It always was when Dad and I worked together. But why do you want to try and partner? And why would I want a partner who's difficult to get along with?"

"Because you can teach me what I need to know about hunting the thing that killed Jess.  And other things like it.  And I can help you hunt and stay alive.  I'm the best researcher you're ever likely to find; I already know how to fight in a general sense and am pretty damn wicked with a knife, and I have these killer visions that you can use to save people."  Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean.

"Sounds good to me, but are you going to be able to trust me?  Because without trust, none of the rest of that means shit."  Dean arched his own brow at Sam and waited.

Sam looked at Dean for a moment and then admitted in a softer tone, "It's weird because I _do_ trust you.  I've never trusted anyone the way I did you at first meeting.  Not since-"  He stopped and looked away.  "Not since before my first foster family."

Nodding again, Dean stuck his hand out.  "Welcome to the hunt, Sammy."

"Sammy?" Sam asked with a reluctant grin, even as he shook Dean's hand.  "Really?"

Dean blushed.  "Yeah, sorry... that was my baby brother's name."

"Oh."  Sam ducked his head, feeling an unusual bashfulness, and then lifted his eyes back to Dean's.  "I guess I don't mind then.  I mean, we'll be brothers in a sense, yeah?  Brother hunters."

"Yeah, we will, of a sort."  Dean clamped down (again) on the desire he felt for Sam.  It wasn't too often he'd allowed himself to get involved with a guy, but Dean was no stranger to experimentation over the years, and Sam did more for him than any number of girls had lately.  "Did you read up on a lot of this?"

Sam looked at the huge text on demonology and said, "I read all of this one.  It seemed most pertinent to me.  I have a couple of other texts that I was going to start on next.  I'm a fast reader."  He ran his fingers down the spine of the ancient leather book.  "It's always served me well."

Dean nodded.  "Sounds like it'll serve me well, too."  He winked at Sam and then ran his hands over the old text.  "Don't suppose you actually took notes like you talked about?"

Sam laughed and pulled out a new notebook, the first twenty pages or so obviously written on, tossing it in front of Dean.  "I'm not an honors student for nothing, you know."

"Wouldn't have thought otherwise.  This looks good," Dean said, paging through the notes that Sam took.  "How much of it did you cover?  Just the pertinent stuff to you?"

"Everything that discussed 'actual' demon sightings, how to fight them and yeah, my own problems."  Sam rubbed his forehead.  "It helps that I don't sleep well anymore.  Lots more time to research."  
   
Dean frowned.  "You're gonna need to sleep if you want to start fighting things."  He tilted his head to eye Sam.  "Your size'll help, but I'm gonna need to put you through some training."

"I'm not sure how to force myself to sleep, other than pills, which I hate.  I have nightmares like I never had before, even worse than the ones about my foster families."  Sam chuckled, but it wasn't a pleasant sound.  "It's totally fucked up that I found something worse than them to dream about."

"Sorry to hear that, but I don't want your death on my hands because you're too tired to fight.  We'll have to see if we can find a way for you to sleep better."  Dean scanned the notes again.  "Looks like you got some great stuff.  Have you had any more visions?"

"I've never been too tired to fight," Sam said with cold smile.  "Still sleep and training would be beneficial, I'm sure."  He rubbed his forehead a little.  "Nothing since last Monday." 

"You might not feel too tired to fight, but supernatural shit's a lot tougher than humans and a lot harder to fight when you're tired.  I speak from experience."  Dean frowned at the way that Sam rubbed his head.

"Yeah, I can only imagine.  Guess that's the first stuff you have to teach me... prof."  Sam grinned at Dean.  "Oh, I guess I should've added to my little self build-up, I have quite a bit of money from a lawsuit against the state and several of my foster families over my treatment."   

Dean blinked.  Money was something that was always an issue, though he hadn't wanted to let Sam in on that.  Even less did he want Sam to know what he did for money.  "Well, that might come in handy with the cost of two people on the road instead of one.  How much longer do you have to go this semester?"  He was itching to get moving again, but Sam was an A student and shouldn’t be cutting out of school altogether.

"Finals are over," Sam said.  "Not that it matters.  I won't be coming back, one way or the other."  He shrugged in indifference.  "I'll let them know."

"You done with school or just leaving?" Dean asked, curious and also worried about Sam throwing his life away.

"I haven't officially graduated, if that's what you mean," Sam said, "but there's no point anymore.  I've been wondering since Jess died why I even bothered to stay.  It was because I had nothing better to do.  No home to retreat to and no plans that hadn't involved her."

"As long as you're sure.  If you walk away before you're done, they might not take you back."  Dean arched his eyebrow, waiting for Sam's confirmation.

"What is the normal life expectancy of a hunter?" Sam asked.  

Dean shook his head.  "I have no idea.  Dad's in his late forties, I'm mid-twenties and I've not actually met many of us."

"I just don't see myself having the future I once planned for myself," Sam said.  "Whatever becomes of our partnership... I'm never returning here."

"Your choice.  We might as well take a bit of time studying the books here if we're going to lose that privilege in a few days."  Dean nodded at Sam and then at the computers lining the wall.  "Want me to show you how I look for stories and then you can try looking for anything in your dreams?"

Sam's mouth twitched as Dean suggested they stay and research, the same way he had a few days earlier.  "Sounds like a good idea, De."  He stood and moved to the other side of the table.  "I could apply for a year of bereavement leave, which would allow me to keep library privileges for that time."

Dean blinked at Sam and then smiled slowly.  "That'd be better - then we could get on the road immediately."  He really was itching to get out of town and had begun to wonder if Sam just needed to get away.

"After I look into my last vision?" Sam asked.  "I do need to learn how to research and see if my visions are real or not."

"Sure, let's get you started over there."  Dean grinned and stood up, stretching his arms over his head before scratching at his stomach slightly.

Sam's eyes flicked to the bare skin exposed for a brief moment on Dean's stomach and then flashed away again.  He fought down a blush and followed after him.  "Where are we going?"

Dean popped his back with a sigh and then nodded to the computer.  "I want you to try searching for some of the elements in your dreams.  If you get a hint of any street names or town names or see writing on the wall of a store... anything like that.  Even pictures on walls sometimes'll give you hints on what to search."

Sam nodded and sat down at the computer.  He shut his eyes and concentrated on the last of his visions, what he could remember of the details.  And just as he began to really focus, a slew of new pictures invaded his mind in a blur of bloody details.  His head snapped back, body jittering and toppling out of the chair.

Dropping to Sam's side, Dean hovered for a minute and then gently pulled Sam into his lap.  He cradled the other guy close, glad he'd not hit his head on the floor before Dean had caught him.  Dean waited out what seemed to be a seizure with even more concern about Sam handling himself on hunts.

Sam grabbed Dean for support instinctively and rode out the rest of the vision.  "Oh fuck.  Oh _shit_ ," he gasped, as his eyes began to function again.  "Never did that before.  Was like I opened my mind to it when I concentrated."

"You okay?" Dean asked, keeping Sam in his arms and shaking his head at someone asking if they needed any help.

Sam nodded and said, "Grab a notebook for me, would you?  I want to write down what I saw before it fades.  And without opening myself up to more of that."  He rubbed his forehead, which ached fiercely.

Dean settled Sam on the floor and then got up to grab a notebook and a pen.  Handing both to Sam, Dean sat back down on the floor again.

"Fuck, my head hurts," Sam mumbled, but took the offered items.  "Thanks."  He began to jot down everything he could remember, muttering, "Bugs.  Housing complex.  Weird Native American dude.  Where the fuck?"

"Jot down whatever you can and then we'll search.  Maybe it's not too far."  Dean climbed into the chair and fired up the computer, getting more than one search engine open just in case.

"Oasis Plains... that's what the sign said," Sam mumbled and jotted down one or two more things.  He handed the notebook up to Dean.  "Here."

Dean grabbed the notebook and started searching away, like he'd taught himself the few times he'd bothered to really go to school.  One chick he'd dated had been a whiz and Dean had learned a lot from her in the few weeks they went out.  "Found it.  Looks like there's a new development with that name... bet if we look harder, we'll find it's near some Native American reservation."

Sam levered himself off the floor and read over the information on Dean's screen.  "It's a new development... does it have any site tour photos?"

Tapping a few keys, Dean found the development's website and pulled it up.  He started the online demo tour with a smile, hoping that Sam recognized something there.

Sam watched for a few moments and then nodded gingerly.  "That's the place.  I saw... swarms of bugs... eating people."  He made a face and then grimaced in pain.  "Feels like my ears are bleeding."

The sound of that alarmed Dean and he turned in his seat, grabbing Sam's head and turning it back and forth gently to check him.  "You don't seem to be, thank god, but I think we need to take you back to your place to rest.  That's not a good thing to feel."

Sam laughed a little and said, "Glad to hear it.  I hate to flake out so early in the research stuff, but yeah, these headaches are killer."

"Don't take anything to do with this shit lightly, okay?  More often than not, the supernatural is nasty and deadly."  Dean smiled at Sam.  "Can you run some of these prints off with your student ID or do we need to pay for them?"

"We can run them off with the ID," Sam said.  

“How're you feeling?" Dean asked, pushing up from the computer so that Sam could get back on the computer.

Sam sat down heavily and printed out the relevant information.  He searched the information about Oasis Plains and said, "There's no reports of anything weird going on there.  Maybe we can head it off?"

"We just might be lucky enough to do that." Dean grabbed the pages off the printer and added them to his stack of notebooks. "You ready to get some rest?"

"Oh yeah," Sam said and heaved himself out of the chair. He stumbled a little and then righted himself with a shake of his head. "Damn, it's worse than usual."

Dean reached out and placed a steadying hand on Sam's lower back. "You gonna make it?"

"Well, it's either that or finding a nook in the library to lay down in," Sam said with a weak little grin. "Not sure that's a good idea." 

"Yeah, just let me know if you need anything." Dean kept his hand at Sam's lower back, his bag slung over his shoulder. "Let's get you some rest."

"Pain killers," Sam muttered. "They help take the edge off."

Dean nodded. "You got any in your room? If not, I can stop and get something."

"Let's stop on the way," Sam said.  "There's a little market in the student union, which is on the way.  Tylenol and a coke... the perfect combination."

Laughing, Dean nodded.  "Sounds good.  Lead the way."  
~~~~~~~~~~

Sam carefully lined up his aim and then flung the knife like Dean taught him, grinning when it thunked near the center of the target.  "Told ya I was good with knives," he said.  He went to retrieve the object, pulling it out of the wall.  "They are not going to be happy that we've damaged their brand new home."

Dean nodded his approval at Sam's talent, but snorted at his comment.  "By the time they find it, we'll be gone and have saved their asses.  They're not likely going to complain."  He dropped into the chair they had set up in the model home he and Sam were crashing in, head tipped back to watch Sam move back into position.  "Take another two steps back, Sammy."

Sam glanced at Dean with a raised eyebrow, but made no comment about the nickname.  He had noticed Dean using it more as they traveled together.  He stepped back and threw the knife again, landing it close to center.  "One of my foster brothers was a real hoodlum.  He taught me how to use a knife and fist fight when I was ten."

Shaking his head, Dean often wondered about the life Sam had lead.  "He teach you how to handle a gun?  That's one of the last parts of your training that we'll need to cover.  Luckily, with spirits and such, the rock salt spreads out, so your aim doesn't have to be amazing right at the start."

"The only time he showed me a gun, I nearly pissed myself in fear.  I was only ten... and I had the strangest fear of guns.  I mean, beyond the ‘oh my God, please don't shoot me’ kind of fear."  Sam spun the knife neatly in his hand.  "I kept up my knife and fighting skills.  Never knew when they'd come in handy.  I thought I'd finally left that behind when I met Jess."

"You probably had until this situation."  Dean shook his head.  "One more toss, and I'll let you off training for the night.  We can cook up some dinner and crash out a bit early since we need to head out to the reservation tomorrow morning."

"You gonna handle the questioning?" Sam asked with a little grin aimed at Dean.  "And slap my ass again?"

Dean laughed.  "If that's what it takes.  We'll see what happens... you think of something to ask, you jump right on in."

"We going in disguise or being upfront this time?  Not that I didn't appreciate being lovers looking for a home, but I'm not sure that's the right approach to take with a shaman."  Sam smirked and began to run through a series of street fighting moves with the knife, thinking of Eric's lessons on how to take care of yourself within the system.  They hadn't always worked, but they had kept him safe in a number of hazardous situations.  

Watching Sam's graceful movements, Dean said, "I generally go with what fits with someone's perception.  It's generally the path of least resistance when you want to keep things low-key.  They see what they want and expect to."

"So, they see us as being together?" Sam asked.  He made a kissy face at Dean.

Dean laughed.  "Not a clue... never thought I gave that vibe off myself."  He eyed Sam up and down, not denying the attraction he felt toward the other guy one bit.

Sam smiled back, feeling better than he had in months.  Jess' death still weighed heavily on him, but his renewed sense of purpose and Dean's presence helped to ease the emptiness in his heart.  "You give off an ‘I'll-fuck-anything-reasonably-attractive’ vibe," he teased.

Tipping his head back with a loud laugh, Dean hit his hand on the edge of the chair.  "Well, it's pretty much the truth, so I guess that means you're hot."  He winked at Sam and for the first time, let just a touch of desire show in his gaze. 

Sam arched an eyebrow in response to the heat in Dean's eyes and leaned back against one the bare walls.  "Well, at least reasonably attractive.  And nothing to a girl with double Ds... or more."  He admitted to finding Dean attractive, but was not ready to get involved with anyone, even physically, yet.   
   
"Ain't that the truth... just about nothing can compare to that in this world."  Dean grinned and winked at Sam again.  "Food... you wanna go out and get something or just cook up something from our supplies here?"

"I think we can afford to go out.  We're living on the cheap here, so you can have your girly steam showers, and I have plenty of money.  So, let's find a decent steakhouse or something."  Sam pushed away from the wall and held out a hand to Dean.

Dean's mouth was already watering over the thought of a steak.  "That's my kinda thinking."  He took Sam's hand and stood up from the chair before grabbing his leather jacket.  "Should we just drive around and look or do you want to look up a place first?" 

"Oh, let's be adventurous and see what we find," Sam said.  "Not like there's a lot around here anyway."  He grabbed his batter gray hoodie and pulled it on, hair flopping everywhere.  
   
"Too true," Dean said, opening the door to the garage for Sam.  "Just keep an eye for anything that looks good and maybe also has a bar.  It'd be nice to unwind with a drink after dinner."

"The way you drink, it's a wonder you don't float away."  Sam grinned and walked into the garage.  "Are you going to abandon me tonight for another blonde?"

Dean shook his head.  "Nah, not if we're gonna get up early tomorrow."  He followed Sam into the garage and unlocked the car.

"Yeah, we got a Native American shaman for you to piss off," Sam said with a smirk.  "And to find the reasons for the sudden bug attacks.  And arachnoids."  
   
"Last thing I need to give him is any suspicion of me."  Dean started the car and waited for Sam to give him the all clear to exit the garage without being seen.

"What, suspicious of you?" Sam asked with a smirk and signaled for Dean drive out of the garage.  He shut the door and hopped in the Impala, bashing his knee against the dash.  "Ow, fuck.  This thing has terrible legroom."   

Dean laughed.  "That's because you're a sasquatch."  He eased them out of the driveway and then the long way around and out the front gate of the settlement.

Sam shut his eyes and listened to the rumble of the engine.  "Sometimes, when I'm nearly asleep, I think I remember things from when I was little... you know, before real memories?  Feelings.  Voices.  Images."  He leaned more against the door, the engine thrumming in his body.  "The way this car feels, it's like one of those feelings... a vibration, deep inside." 

"Yeah?  That's kinda cool."  Dean snuck a quick glance at Sam before looking back out over the road.  Being in that car, working a hunt, was where Dean always wanted to be and having Sam with him seemed more right than any other time he'd done this.  It was an odd feeling and one that made Dean feel slightly disloyal to his dad.

"I wish I could remember that time," Sam said softly.  "I think... well, I feel, that I had someone who loved me then.  I wish I knew what happened, how I ended up in the system."

Dean nodded.  "Yeah, it's got to be hard not knowing... I know it's hard wondering what happened to my brother."

Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose a little and said, "I think there's a vision coming on."

"Well shit," Dean cursed softly. Immediately pulling to the side of the road, Dean shut off the engine.  He'd learned quickly that the best way to help Sam was to be close and ground him if needed.

And then it hit, sudden and overwhelming as always, and Sam clutched his head and gritted his teeth at flashes of a woman in a shower.  "Shit," he forced out.  "Turn around.  Dean, go back!"

Starting the car, Dean didn't even question Sam, just pulled a fast u-turn and sped his way back to the housing development.  He wasn't used to Sam possibly having an immediately relevant vision, but was definitely going to take full advantage of it.

Sam held his head and jerked through the rest of the visions.  His nose began to bleed unnoticed, until finally he was released with a gasp.  "The realtor we met today... she's in her shower... something with spiders...  she dies."

"Shit, okay."  Dean stepped even harder on the gas pedal, taking a corner at a perilously fast speed until he saw the entrance to the development.  He slowed considerably, glancing around until they turned the corner and saw the emergency vehicles sitting outside one of the units.  Cursing, Dean pulled to a stop outside the home.

Sam blinked and wiped at his nose thoughtlessly.  "Looks like we're too late.  My vision happened right after?"  His neck bowed under the pressure of his headache, and he cupped his head in big hands.  "Fuck.  So much for dinner and booze."

Dean mumbled, "Looks like it was a 30-second delay.  Fuck!"  He hit the steering wheel.  "You good to stay here a minute?  I want to go ask some questions."

"If I'm passed out or dead when you get back, just leave me," Sam said and slumped against the door.  "She died of fright, by the way, though the spiders bit her a buncha times."  He shut his eyes and lay there like a lump.

Nodding, Dean shut the door as gently as he could and then walked up the walkway.  He took his time looking about, keeping out of the way and only asking the few questions he thought necessary.  It was definitely linked to the other deaths, and Dean was glad that Sam was there, even if the vision had come slightly too late.  
~~~~~~~~~

Sam watched Oasis Plains fade from view and then turned to Dean in the driver's seat of the Impala.  "That was a weird hunt, wasn't it?  I mean, being attacked by swarms of insects and having to wait for daylight for them to leave.  No real resolution except to make sure nobody activates the curse." 

Dean shrugged and nodded.  "Yeah, sometimes that's the way of it... the supernatural stuff is unpredictable at best, though after a bit you do tend to get a feel for some of it."

"And we were really rolling with the punches there."  Sam sighed and tried to straighten out his legs more.  "But this next one should be easy, you say?"

"Should be... sounds like a routine salt and burn.  We should be in and out of there pretty quick, so long as the remains of the person are actually buried and not already cremated."  Dean tapped his hands to the beat of the music on the radio while they drove along.  He kept it low most of the time, but it was still there - the soundtrack of his life.

"If the person has been cremated, we'd need to find whatever was still tying him or her to the earth," Sam said.  "Of course, sometimes just burning the bones isn't enough, if something else still ties the person to the earth.  So, we have to hang around after the salt and burn and make sure the haunting has stopped.”  He looked to Dean for confirmation.

"Exactly," Dean nodded, smiling at Sam.  He wasn't surprised, exactly, that Sam had proven to be an adept student, but was amazed at how interested Sam really seemed in the whole process.  "I usually hang a day or so to be sure things calm down, maybe do a little bit of checking on some other details of the person."

Sam grinned a little at Dean and lowered his eyes almost shyly.  "I can't believe you've been doing this for so long on your own.  Aren't you worried about your father being out of contact for so long?"

Dean frowned slightly.  "Yeah, but sometimes he goes to ground if he gets a good lead on the demon.  I'll check in with him when we're done the salt and burn, see if he's around or what he might need checked out."  He made himself reverse the frown with a smile at Sam.

Sam asked, "And what will he think of me? I mean, a stray you picked up on a hunt."

"Don't care. I haven't cared what he thought in a long time..." Dean let the thought trail off. "Besides, you're my hunting partner, and that's what matters."

Sam blinked at the not very hidden resentment that Dean harbored toward his father. And then forgot it in a rush of pleasure for being called Dean's partner. "I don't know that I've earned that right yet."

Dean grunted. "You're getting there every day, Sammy."

Sam laughed a little at Dean's response and grunted back. "Thanks, He-Man."

Another snort and Dean shook his head. "How much longer until the next turn off?"

"About ten minutes," Sam said and snickered at Dean. "You're not much for emoting, are you?

"Nope, chick flick moments aren't my thing."  Dean chuckled and then tossed a grin at Sam.  "Neither, apparently, is feminism," Sam said with a laugh.  "You know, it's all right to be a bit touch-feely now and then."

Dean arched an eyebrow in Sam's direction.  "Touchy-feely's not in my vocabulary either."  He grinned to let Sam know he was teasing him slightly.

"Unless it's the touchy-feely of some hot chicks better physical attributes," Sam observed with a wry grin.  "Then it's the only word in your vocabulary, except for fuck."

"Damn right."  Dean chuckled, wagging his eyebrows at Sam.  "Of course, I don't discriminate about guys either."

"Haven't seen you hit on any guys yet," Sam said, feeling a zing of thrill in his stomach.  "Matt was my first anything.  He was a sex maniac on speed, too.  Jesus, I have no idea what he saw in me at fifteen.  Gawky, attitude out to here..." He laughed and shifted in his seat.  "By the time I was sixteen, I knew more about sex than a lot of pros."  

Dean shrugged.  "Depends on the guy and where we are... a lot of these mid-America towns aren't too open and accepting."

"Yeah, tell me about it."  Sam rolled his eyes.  "My third foster family was comprised of religious nutballs.  They could detail every single little way you could damn your soul to Hell."

"And I bet they delighted in doing it, right?"  Dean shook his head at people's intolerance and ignorance.  "Definitely better off without them."

"Well, I admit, I avoided churches until I started traveling with you.  All this stuff about holy water and the power of the word ‘Christo’ and latin incarnations... it's weirding me out a bit."  Sam rubbed his forehead, glad it was not aching.

Dean snorted.  "It weirded me out for awhile, too.  It's hard to think about how much of religion might be true, but then I sometimes wonder if the power of believing in something is what really makes it work.”

"Well, if religion is right, I am on the fast train for Hell.  The one with no brakes."  Sam shook his head and shifted in the seat again.  

"I think spirituality is right... religion is rules and restrictions.  I don't buy it, and I've seen a lot of weird stuff."  Dean chuckled, smiling at Sam and then finally taking the next turn on their way to the salt and burn.

"Whoa, this thing is a boat," Sam said as Dean rounded the curve.  He put a hand on the car door to steady himself.  "You've put some thought into that... you shouldn't play so dumb."

Dean chuckled harshly.  "People see what they want to see, Sammy.  Besides, being dumb is an advantage in that people and even spirits don't think you're smart enough to figure out what they're up to."  He shrugged, one hand tightening on the steering wheel a bit.

"So, you saying I should tone it down?" Sam asked.  He reached out and patted Dean's leg in response to the laugh.

"Nah, you don't look like you could be dumb, but people think I am when they see the car, the jacket.  I look blue collar, lower class, and you look more white collar."  Dean knew it was just perception, but in what they did - perception mattered.

"You don't seem any lower class than I am," Sam muttered uncomfortably.  He looked down at his feet, not liking the idea of being judged somehow better than Dean based on such stupid things.  "I'm the poor trash here."

"Sam, neither one of us is exactly the best example of class, but people see what they want to see.  It's something I learned early on.  If you dress yourself up and present yourself as someone official, they're gonna treat you like you are."  Dean shrugged again.  He'd learned the basic art of a con at his father's knee, and it was something Dean wore like a second skin.

"Think I don't know that?" Sam asked with a hollow laugh.  "As soon as I got out of the system and escaped to Stanford, I learned fast to blend in with the rest of the kids.  No more Sam Diablo, poor kid out of foster care, but Sam Diablo, smart and upward bound Stanford student." 

Dean nodded.  "A lot of how you project yourself really is who you are... or who you become."

"So, you're really a trashy, loud-mouthed blowhard with more balls than brains?" Sam asked in a low, teasing voice.  
   
"Yeah, if that's what you see," Dean teased back, winking at Sam and knowing that Sam saw more to him than most people did.

"Oh, I see a lot, big boy," Sam said with a grin.  "Everyone does... you wear your jeans tight enough."  
   
Dean snorted, reaching down to cup himself.  "Damn right, Sammy, and don't you forget it."

"You rather make that impossible," Sam said, cheeks flushed with amusement and more than a hint of heat.  "You're a self size queen."

Another bellowing laugh and Dean punched Sam lightly in the arm.  "I'm a size queen in all things, Sammy - boobs, cocks, you name it."

Sam grinned and said, "Then I'd really be up your alley," and laughed his own booming laugh.  He cupped his stomach and let the positive feeling of laughter take hold.  After the months of mourning and unhappiness, it felt wonderful... the best thing in the world.

Dean laughed again, wagging his eyebrows.  "Sounds tempting, Sammy."

Sam couldn't really take Dean's waggling eyebrows and grin seriously, but felt pleased anyway.  He laughed even more and leaned back into the seat.  "Since you hit on everything, I am not sure that is much of a compliment."  
Dean snorted.  "Not everything, Sammy... at least, not with true intentions."

"All right, you are not without a few standards," Sam said, still teasing.  "There was the girl who smelled like cheese." 

"Ugh, Sammy."  Dean knew that Sam was teasing him, but couldn't help wondering if Sam saw him that way after all.  Not that   
Dean had really done all that much to change Sam's opinion of him.

Sam laughed and touched Dean's leg gently.  "I like when you call me Sammy... makes me feel like we've known each other forever."

Dean smiled.  "I feel like it too... and you just feel like a Sammy to me."  He ducked his head slightly, still looking out the windshield.  "That's what I called my baby brother too.  I hope that's okay."

'How old were you... when you lost him?" Sam asked softly. 

"I was eight... he was four."  Dean shook his head, sad at the realization.  "It's been so long, and I've looked for him whenever I could."

"Do you think you'd even know him now?" Sam asked, shared sorrow in his voice.  He also knew what it was like to lose a family when young.

Dean shook his head.  "No, probably not.  He was just a baby."  He cleared his throat, remembering his baby brother crying for him.

"But he still means a lot to you," Sam said.  "I'm sorry, Dean.  I'd be happy to try and help you find him, too.  Anyway I can."

"Thanks, when we get some time, we can try and search for him." Dean smile at Sam, nodding his acceptance of the help.

"I can search for him anytime though the net," Sam said. "I just need a few details about him and his disappearance." 

Dean nodded. "We'll get started on it a bit later. Dad has more of the information on him than I do."

"Well, you can tell me the basics, I'm sure," Sam said. "His full name. The day he vanished. Where you were at the time. Things like that."

Not sure why he was reluctant to get into it, Dean nodded again. "How much longer until we get to the next stop?"

Sam frowned a little and said, "If you don't want me involved, Dean, I don't have to be. I just wanted to help you."

"I do want your help, Sam. Just... give me some time to think about what might be important for finding him that we haven't already done, okay?"

"All right, Dean," Sam said without any inflection. He felt like he had bounced against his first brick wall with Dean.

Dean nodded, feeling bad about not opening up more to Sam, but he didn't want to go through the disappointment of not finding his brother and have Sam witness it.

Sam folded his arms and leaned against the door, bright mood dulled now by Dean's refusal to let him to help. Finally, he said, "So, salt and burn."

"Yeah, basic stuff." Dean looked at Sam, offering him a smile.

"I bet that's pretty boring to you," Sam said with a fake smile. "Do I get to do all the digging? 

"Basic burns are actually not that boring. It's nice to have an easy thing now and again." Dean smiled and winked at Sam. "I'd never make you do all the digging.

"Somehow, I doubt that," Sam said with a little snort. "I can totally see you giving me all the digging."

Dean laughed. "Yeah maybe sometimes."

"Of course, I could do that to you, too," Sam said with laugh of his own. He felt the tension between them ease again and relaxed into the seat. "Traveling with you is good."

"Yeah, it's nice to have someone to travel with." Dean smiled, almost shy. "I'm glad you wanted to come along."

"I'm glad you took me with you," Sam said. "I was pretty sure you wouldn't, since you reminded me of other lone wolves I've known."

Dean shrugged. "I have been a loner most of my life, but it doesn't mean that I can't appreciate the help of a partner."

"You and your dad... I've wondered... why don't you travel together?" Sam asked.

"We did until I was twenty-one and then I took off to hunt on my own. I wanted to be independent and try and find my brother." Dean offered Sam a tiny smile.

"You, uh, didn't look when you were together?" Sam asked. "I mean... your dad must've had an incentive to find him, too."

Dean shook his head. "Of course we did, but Dad was more concerned about finding the demon. I just wanted Sammy back."

"Did you have any luck?" Sam asked. "Find any leads?"

"Not sure what Dad found years ago, but I've mostly hit dead ends since I've been looking." Dean shrugged, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

"We'll find him together," Sam said and swore in his heart that they would.   
~~~~~~~~~~

Sam cried out and sat up fast, arm reaching out for the lamp, but succeeding only in knocking it to the floor. "Oh fuck. Dean?"

Dean was up and out of the bed in a flash, the cry coming from Sam something he'd become used to. He sat on the edge of Sam's bead, reaching out for him and grabbing his shoulder. "Right here, Sammy."

Sam grabbed him and held on tight, reassuring himself that Dean was safe. "Jesus, what a dream." He paused and tried to think back to the images and breathed out in relief. "But just a dream."

"Just a dream," Dean repeated, rubbing up and down Sam's back to soothe him and help him come down from the nightmare.

Sam buried his face in Dean's shoulder, not even pretending not to want the comfort. He pressed his hands to Dean's chest, warming them between their bodies. "Fuck. So tired of this, Dean. Can't get a peaceful night's rest between visions and nightmares and crap."

Dean tightened his grip on Sam, holding him close and tight. "I know, Sammy. I wish I could do something more than just be here when you wake up."

"It's something, Dean, more than you know," Sam said. "I never could have shared this with anyone else." He shivered and pressed closer to Dean. "I wish I knew why I got honored with visions."

"I wish I did too, but I'm as in the dark on this one as you are." Dean hugged him closer again, rubbing his back.

"Tonight was just another nightmare," Sam said, voice cracking a little. "You getting ripped apart by that chupacabra we just killed."

Dean sighed, a nightmare something he could deal with. "I'm here, in one piece, Sam." Resting his head in the crook of Sam's neck, Dean held him close.

"Yeah. One piece." Sam shut his eyes in relief and added, "One perfect piece."

Shivering slightly at the tone in Sam's voice, Dean nodded. "All in one piece, Sam."

"Dean, I- uh, I rather like being like this with you," Sam confessed softly. "In your arms."

"I like having you in my arms, Sam." Dean breathed the words quietly in Sam's ear.

"Do you?" Sam asked. "I thought you might like getting to take care of me like this. You're so natural at it, like you've been waiting for someone to use the skills on."

Dean chuckled low.  "Suppose I likely have been since I lost my Sammy."  Then Dean bit his lip, not wanting Sam to think that it was the only reason.  "And for the moment, I'm your Sammy," Sam said with a grin.  "I don't mind being that."  He pressed a kiss to Dean's forehead.

"What if I wanted you to be a different Sammy though?" Dean asked, eyes closed from Sam's kiss.

"A different Sammy?" Sam asked, confused.  He rubbed a thumb over Dean's right cheek.  "What do you mean?"  
   
Dean leaned into Sam's touch.  "He was my brother, Sam."  He opened his eyes.  "You're not... and I want you, Sam.  I want to be with you... therefore, different Sammy."

"Oh.  Oh, yes," Sam's voice took a warm, deep timber, and he stroked more purposefully over Dean's body.  "I’ve missed being with a man.  And you, fuck, but you're hot, Dean."

"God, you didn't seem interested," Dean said, stroking Sam with more intent as well.

"I spent a long time grieving Jess," Sam said softly.  "And you flirt with anything that breathes, so I was never sure if it was just an instinctive thing or you really were interested.  Plus, we work well together, Dean.  I didn't want to put that at risk."

Dean nodded.  "Me either, Sam.  My flirting with you was always a mixture of half serious, half teasing.  I wanted it, wanted you, but was afraid of messing us up."

"I only want this if you're serious, Dean.  I want someone faithful to me and our relationship.  If that's not for you..."  Sam pulled back to look into Dean's eyes and let him see how serious he was about that. 

"I want that with you, Sam.  I've never had the luxury of being around someone long enough to be long-term."  Dean showed Sam how serious he was, keeping their gazes locked.

"That's a pretty damn cool first for me to be in your life," Sam said.  "Partners in everything."  He pressed his mouth gently to Dean's, licking at his lower lip.

Dean moaned, opening his lips to Sam and holding him close.  He flicked his tongue out to touch Sam's after he was done licking at Dean's lip.

Sam sucked Dean's tongue into his mouth and chewed lightly at it.  He tilted his head and cupped the back of Dean's skull with a   
big hand.  His other hand caressed the bare skin of Dean's chest and teased lightly at his right nipple.

Responding to Sam, Dean hid his surprise that he wanted to get involved right away.  Not that he was complaining.  He twined his hands in Sam's hair and moaned into the kiss.

Sam pulled away after a moment, lips slick and slightly swollen, and smiled at Dean.  "That's a nice way to put my nightmare to rest."

"Let's banish it completely, then."  Dean arched up toward Sam, taking his mouth in a heated kiss again and digging his fingers into Sam's back.

Sam moaned at the deep kiss and tangled his tongue with Dean's, thrilled by his skill and passion.  He collapsed back into the pillows, bringing Dean with him.  "Whoa.”

Dean chuckled, arching over Sam and balancing himself on his hands.  He tried hard not to press too much into Sam's body just yet, wanting the temptation of their touching to arouse Sam more.  "The taste of you makes me ache."

"Flatterer," Sam purred and tugged on Dean's lower lip with his thumb.  "Everything about you makes me hard.  Your scent, your taste, the feel of you against me."

Moaning, Dean dragged one hand down Sam's side and rubbed his thumb over Sam's hipbone.  "Same here, Sam.  I've been wanting to touch you, to taste you, for so long."

"How long?" Sam demanded with a little smirk that quickly faded into a moan.  "Please, Dean, tell me."  He arched up to press them closer together.

"Pretty much since I saw you that first time.  You hit almost every single thing I find hot in a guy."  Dean leaned down to nibble at Sam's lower lip before sliding his tongue into Sam's mouth.

Sam sucked greedily on Dean's tongue and mapped his back with broad sweeps of his hands.  He used his strength to urge Dean down fully on top of him, wanting to feel them pressed together.  "Sweet talker.  Fuck yeah, Dean."

Dean chuckled, lowering himself so that their bodies rubbed together.  "Only telling you the truth, Sammy."

"In that tone, make me close to blowing my load before you even really touch me."  Sam pressed his hips into Dean's and growled a little.  "So hard."

"Fuck yeah, Sammy.  Let me feel how much you want it," Dean moaned, rocking their hips together.

"No sense hiding it," Sam groaned back and spread his legs wider to let Dean slot neatly between them.  This pressed their cocks more firmly together and caused Sam to buck up hard.

Dean bit his lip on the flash of desire for Sam.  He rocked his hips down into Sam's, grabbing one of his legs and tugging it up higher on his hip.  "Fuck," Dean breathed out.

"Hmm, you want something from me, Dean?" Sam crooned and let his neck fall back for Dean to nibble.

"Want everything from you, Sammy."  Dean pressed himself hard into Sam's body, rocking them together.  "What do you want?"

"The same from you," Sam said and grabbed Dean's hips to still him and hold him close.  "Want to jerk you and be jerked off, want to suck you and be sucked, want to fuck and be fucked, want to try everything with you."

Dean groaned.  "Fuck yeah.  What do you want right this minute?"

"Just to be together, like this. Come like this... maybe with fewer clothes." Sam chuckled harshly.

"Yeah, that's definitely possible." Dean levered himself up and off Sam, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. He then reached down and tugged Sam's sweat pants off his legs.

Sam laughed as Dean did not even give him a chance to deal with his own clothes. "In a hurry?"

Dean laughed. "Not taking the chance you're going to change your mind."

Sam pulled him up for a long, deep kiss. "Not a chance of that, Dean. I want you."

"Good." Dean returned the kiss with a deep one of his own, tongues tangling together.

Sam reached between them and took Dean in one hand, stroking a little. "Fuck, you're nice and proportional."

Dean choked on the laugh, head tipping back while his body pushed forward into Sam's hand. "Could say the same about you, Sam."

"I'm a big boy all over," Sam said with a wink.  He rubbed a thumb over the rim of Dean's cock and then moved his hand back to his hips.  "Don't want to ruin the build up."

"Don't think anything could ruin it since it's been going on for a few months now," Dean said before dipping his head back down for a kiss.  

Sam liked kissing Dean, liked losing himself in the warm, wet depths of his mouth.  He ran his hands down to cup the mounds of Dean's ass, squeezing and kneading the firm globes.  "Your ass is goddam perfect.  Especially with the bowed legs."

Dean laughed.  "Not sure I've ever had the bow legs complimented like that before."  He rocked into Sam's body, loving the feel of his huge hands.

"They're perfect for you.  You swagger so well on them, showing off your ass."  Sam squeezed a little harder and rubbed his thumbs along the split between cheeks.  

"Fuck yeah, Sammy.  Touch me.  Wanna feel your hands all over me."  Dean slipped one leg over Sam's to line their cocks up with each other's hip and to spread himself for Sam's touch.

Sam slid a finger slowly down the silky skin of Dean's crack until he reached the ring of muscle that guarded his body.  He pressed against the hole and tugged it open just a little, teasing the edges and the very inside.  "Like that, Dean?"

Dean moaned, biting at Sam's lower lip.  "Fucking love it, Sam."

"Can't wait to be inside your perfect ass, fucking us both senseless."  Sam slid his finger deeper inside, to the first joint and wiggled.  "Bet you make a lot of noise when you're getting your ass reamed."

"Make a lot of fucking noise all the time."  Dean grinned at him, pressing his ass back onto Sam's fingers.  "You gonna fuck me   
tonight, Sammy?"

"Want me to?" Sam asked, still playing with Dean's hole.  "I thought we were going slow." 

Dean chuckled harshly, rocking his hips into Sam.  "We can go as slow as you want, Sam.  You're the one who stuck your finger in my ass." 

"Yes, I did," Sam said.  "Cause your ass is so perfect, I couldn't help myself.  I just had to touch."  He bit at Dean's neck and sucked up a mark.

Tipping his head to the side so Sam could mark him, Dean arched into his chest.  "Then do whatever you want, Sam.  I'm letting you set the pace here for us."

Sam hummed under his breath and kissed up Dean's throat to suck on his right ear.  "I think we'll go with the original plan," he whispered, "but I'll leave my finger where it is."

"Whatever you want, Sammy," Dean said, shuddering from the feel of Sam's teeth nibbling over his body.

Sam licked at the mark on Dean's neck and then caught his mouth for a deep kiss.  The finger in Dean's ass started to press in and out in a slow fashion even while his other hand wrapped around Dean's back.  "Come on."

Dean rocked his body against Sam's, returning the kiss.  "What do you want from me?"

Sam rocked against Dean, pressing his cock into the groove of Dean's hip.  "Want to feel you against me, Dean.  Want you to spill between us, slick and hot.  Want to see you lose control." 

"Fuck yeah, Sammy," Dean said, rocking his hips faster and harder into Sam's for the friction. 

Sam's head fell back on deep, harsh moans of pleasure.  He tightened his hand on Dean's back and sank his finger in all the way on one of Dean's hard thrusts.  His own cock hardened until it felt ready to fall off.  

Dean tipped his head back on a cry when Sam's finger slid in deep.  

"So close, Dean.  Gonna come all over you."  Sam nipped at Dean's earlobe and tugged hard.  "Fuck." 

"Want you to, Sam.  God, wanna feel us come together," Dean said, reaching down to curl his hand on Sam's hip and grind their cocks together. 

"Oh fuck, yeah, Dean," Sam gasped.  "Please.  Harder." 

"Yeah, god yeah," Dean said, writhing against Sam's body.  "Want you so much, Sammy."

Sam growled a little at the need in Dean's voice and responded by thrusting even harder. He spurted with a low, pained grunt, slicking them both. Unable to wait, he reached down and jacked Dean quick and firm, wanting him to catch up.

It didn't take Dean long, and he came hard, slicking over Sam's hand and coating the two of them. "Fuck, Sam," he groaned, body twitching and shaking.

Sam trailed fingers through their mixed release and then sucked it off his skin. "Mmm, nice." He repeated the gesture several times before completely relaxing back into the bed. "That was... better than anything I have ever done before."

Dean rumbled a half laugh, half moan. "Yeah?" he asked, rolling onto his stomach and burying his head in the pillow to look at Sam with one eye. "It's definitely the most intense it's ever been for me."

"You've never had one person to share anything with," Sam said softly. He rubbed Dean's back in small, soothing circles. "Jess was my first for anything serious. I'm kinda hoping you'll be my last."

"It'd be good for you to be my only," Dean said, struggling to keep his eyes open. He reached out, wrapped his arm around Sam's body and tugged him closer. "Sleep now, I'm here if you have nightmares."

"I don't think there will be any nightmares tonight," Sam said and pressed a kiss to the top of Dean's head. "Thank you for driving them away."

Dean smiled. "Anytime, Sammy."  
~~~~~~~~~~

John Winchester sat in his truck at the end of a long, dreary road and stared into the distance.  His cell phone sat in one hand, Dean's number already punched in and ready to be dialed, but something made him hesitate, hesitate to have a discussion that would drive his only remaining son even farther away from him.  
   
He knew the exact moment Dean had started drifting: the same painful instance he chose to leave Sammy behind, screaming and crying for his brother, his De.  No amount of booze or alcohol could dim that image from his brain.  And as painful as it had been for him to acknowledge that Sam was lost to them forever, it was far, far worse for Dean.  He had never been the same, especially in his feelings toward his father.  And time did not ease the wounds.  In fact, the more time that passed since that day, the more Dean seemed to despise him.  
   
With a sigh, he hit the button and waited for his son to answer.  Dean always answered, no matter his feelings.

The ringing of his cell startled Dean out of a deep sleep. He reached to the nightstand, looked at the number on the screen and hesitated.  He'd not heard from his father in weeks, close to three months, and with Sam tucked into bed beside him, Dean wasn't really interested in a conversation with him now.  But he was a good, dutiful son, if nothing else, so answered.  "Dad."

"Dean," John answered levelly.  He started with the carrot.  "I've been keeping track of you.  You've been racking up quite a few tough kills."  
   
"Yes, Sir.  Been working hard, tracking the demon, too."  Dean sat up in the bed, knees bent and elbows resting on them to brace himself. 

John breathed out and said, "You've done good, son."  He paused a brief moment.  "I noticed you've picked up a stray.  You know it's fine to find companionship on a short term basis, but we can't get involved with anyone."  
   
Dean bristled at his father's words.  "I don't think it's any of your business who I travel with.  Besides, he's a hunting partner."

John tightened the hold on his phone unconsciously.  "A hunting partner?  You picked up some unknown hunter, Dean?  What the fuck are you thinking?  You know we don't just trust people we meet, especially other hunters.  They have their own agendas."

"Dad, I'm not a teenager," Dean said, doing his best not to lose his temper.  "I don't have to justify my choices.  I have a hunting partner, live with it."

John sucked in hard at Dean's response.  "I'm just concerned for your welfare," he said, voice shaking with anger.  "You've gotten less and less careful."

 Dean closed his eyes and breathed out.  "Dad, you've not been careful my entire life.  Why do you care if I'm not?"

"Because you're my son," John said, the hurt like a knife through his heart.  

Dean shuddered out a breath at John's words.  He'd not cared enough about Sammy to save him, but wanted Dean to believe that he was different.  "Look Dad, just trust me.  He's not a liability; in fact, he's better at research than you or I could hope to be."

"Who is he?" John asked, voice trembling.  "What's his name?"

"Sam Diablo. He's a Stanford student," Dean answered.

"He's not our Sammy," John said instantly.  "He can't be.  And the sooner you realize that, the better.  You need to let him go his own way, Dean.  This obsession with your brother isn't healthy."

Dean seethed with anger.  "I'm well aware of that, Dad.  You left our Sammy behind almost twenty years ago.  He wants to be here, Dad.  He wants to be with me... so you need to just deal with it."  Changing the topic sometimes worked on John, so Dean tried it now.  "Did you have a case for us?"

John bit his lower lip hard to prevent all the angry and hurt words from pouring out of him.  When he finally found a modicum of control, he said, "No, Dean.  From here on out, you're on your own.  Just try to be careful."  He clicked off the phone and tucked it away in the glove department. 

An ache from being officially cut off by his father coursed through Dean.  But he hardened himself to it, reminding himself that his dad hadn't cared enough about his younger brother to try and save him, so why would he care enough about Dean?  Taking a breath, Dean tossed the cell on the bedside table and then settled back into the bed.

Sam stirred and blinked sleepily as Dean resettled back next to him.  "Dean?  Everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, Sammy.  Go back to sleep," Dean said, turning over and wrapping himself around Sam's body with a quiet sigh.

Sam felt the tension in Dean and rubbed his back in warm circles.  "Dean," he said softly, "you get a call in the middle of the night and then get all stiff... something's wrong.  Won't you tell me?"

Dean sighed, melting into Sam.  "Yeah, it was Dad.  He's not happy about you... not happy that I took on a partner and told me I'm on my own if I let you stay."

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam said, "but I imagine he's feeling pretty abandoned by you, too.  After all, even if you didn't always travel together, you were still partners.  And then you went and got me... give him some time, and we'll prove to him that we're not his enemies and work awesome together."  He pressed a kiss to Dean's nose.

Tipping Sam's head for a real kiss, Dean finally pulled back.  "It's best this way.  He was always a hard man, and I never realized how alone I was until you joined me."

"Was he always this hard?  I mean, before you lost your brother?"  Sam squeezed Dean's neck and worked on the muscles there.

"I think he got harder when we lost Mom, but then really hard after we lost Sammy.  I know he found it hard that his baby was gone, but it never seemed like he cared half as much as he cared about the demon."  Dean buried his face in Sam's neck and thought that his father’s putting the demon hunt before Sammy was why he could never forgive him.

Sam hugged Dean tighter and stroked the back of his head.  "Dean, you have to let me try and help you find you baby brother.  I know it's been a long time, but you won't have any peace until we know, one way or the other, what happened to him."

Dean nodded.  "Yeah, Sammy.  It's probably time I actually tried."  He rubbed his face on Sam's shoulder.

"With someone to help you that can be your support no matter we find."  Sam tilted his head to rest their cheeks together.  "I'll do everything I can to help you find him."

"Thanks, Sam.  That means a lot."  Dean curled in close and hugged Sam tight.

"I know what it means not to have a family," Sam whispered.  "I can only imagine what it would be like to have a family and then lose them."  He cradled Dean in his arms.  "Jess was my family... and now, you are."

Dean lifted his head to kiss Sam.  "You're my family now too, Sammy."

Sam rolled Dean beneath him and began to place, warm, lingering kisses down his neck and over his collarbone.  He stroked his body with sweeps of his big hands, pinching lightly at his nipples and massaging his hipbones.  "My Dean."

"Sam," Dean breathed out softly, stroking the length of Sam's muscled back.

"Gonna take care of you, Dean," Sam assured him, nipping lightly at his skin.  "Gonna treat you so right."

Dean smiled at Sam, pulling him down to brush their lips together.  "You always have, Sammy."

Sam kissed Dean for a few long moments, pinching and tugging lightly at each of his nipples and then stroking the aerolas with little circles.  "Want me to suck you?"

"Fuck yeah, Sammy.  Love your mouth."  Dean arched into Sam's touch, lifting his head to flick his tongue over Sam's lower lip.

Sam grinned and nipped at the roving tongue.  "You're a wet dream, Dean.  Wanna suck down everything you have to offer."  He began to slide down Dean, but paused to lavish his stomach with kisses, bites and licks.

Dean thrust his fingers into Sam's hair, gripping him and arching his body into Sam's touch.  He wanted so much of Sam, so much more than he'd ever thought he'd want from another person in his life.

Sam nosed further down and rubbed his face against Dean's hardening cock.  He licked a stripe up each side and then pressed a kiss to the very tip.  "You're perfect."

"No one's perfect, Sam," Dean said, dropping one hand to fist the sheets so he didn't pull Sam's hair out by the roots.

Sam swallowed in the head of Dean's cock and sucked like a vacuum.  The first drops of liquid were manna and made him pull off to lick his lips.  "Perfect," he purred.

Dean choked on the laugh, ending in a long moan while he did his best to not thrust deep into Sam's throat.  "So fucking good, Sammy.  God, the way you suck me."

"Taste good, Dean," Sam purred and lapped delicately at the precome dripping from the head.  "So gorgeous."  He sucked even further down and shut his eyes to magnify the feel, the scent and the taste of him.

"Fuck, your dirty mouth is fucking amazing, Sammy."  Dean rocked his hips up into Sam's mouth.  He took care not to choke Sam, but he loved that Sam could take it when he thrust.

Sam accommodated the first of Dean's thrusts with a bit of difficulty, but the subsequent ones were easier.  He used his hand on the base of Dean's cock to stroke and then moved it further down to play with his balls.  

Dean tipped his head back on the pillow, moaning loudly each time Sam stroked him.  Prior to Sam, he'd had an amazing staying power, but something about the way Sam touched him left Dean coming faster than he'd done since he'd first discovered sex.

Sam cupped Dean's sack in a big hand and focused just on working with the sensitive balls.  His mouth did not remain inactive, but sucked instinctively.  Humming softly in contentment, he tugged and massaged and caressed Dean's sack. 

"Sammy," Dean choked out.  "God, fuck."  He trembled under Sam and the strain of holding back his orgasm.  Finally, it was just too much effort, and Dean let go, orgasm slamming into him and jetting into Sam's mouth.

Sam swallowed the release contentedly, not letting a drop escape his mouth.  He nearly drowned in the copious fluids, but finally, Dean stopped and Sam pulled off with a smile.  "That's my Dean."

Dean chuckled harshly.  "Fuck. God, what you do to me, Sammy."

Sam climbed back up Dean's body leisurely, kissing and sucking up little marks along the way.  He finally found Dean's mouth and kissed him, long and deep, before settling to one side.  "It's my pleasure."  
   
"It's definitely _my_ pleasure," Dean said.  "So, what do you want from me, Sammy?"

"This is all for you, Dean," Sam whispered, trailing fingers down Dean's chest.  "What do you wish to give me?"

"Want you inside me, Sammy."  Dean smiled at Sam, pulling him down to tangle their tongues together.  

Sam smiled as Dean kissed him and tilted his head to deepen the play of their mouths.  He clasped Dean gently by the hips and then swept his hands up and down his body.  "That's my Dean."

  Dean arched up against Sam's body.  "Yours."  

Sam gazed into Dean's eyes, seeing a softness there that would never be visible anywhere else.  He brushed his mouth across the ridiculously long lashes and reached down to caress Dean's ass. 

Reaching down, Dean cupped his hands around Sam's ass and pulled him in closer with a wicked grin.  "Love the feel of you so deep inside me, Sammy." 

"Claiming you," Sam affirmed.  He pushed apart Dean's cheeks and slipped a hand into the crest, searching for his hole.  "There."  He pressed a dry finger just inside. 

"Right there," Dean agreed, spreading himself open for Sam. 

"Gonna fuck you, Dean.  Gonna shove my cock up there and take control.  Want to live like that, joined together."  Sam reached into the duffle he kept at the bedside to retrieve lube.  "Want much?" 

Dean shook his head, breath lost on a shudder.  "No, Sam... just a little." 

"Whatever you want," Sam promised and put the minimum of lube on his fingers. He slid the first back in, with just enough slick to ease the way slightly.

Arching his back, Dean sighed. "More, Sammy," he breathed.

Sam mouthed over Dean's cheek and pressed a kiss to his open lips. "You're so sexy, Dean. So natural at this." His finger pushed in deeper, carefully working on the already relaxing muscle.

"Been doing it a long time, Sam," Dean said. And, for the first time, he felt a twinge of regret for his previous, slutty ways.

Sam smiled sadly and nibbled softly at Dean's jawline. "Same way I have," he murmured. "For the moments of pure, physical pleasure... and no emotional entanglements."

Dean chuckled. "So true, Sam. Never meant much of anything except sex."

"'Til Jess, I thought that all that stuff about sex meaning more when it was with someone you cared about was crap." Sam sucked reverently at Dean's neck. "So untrue." He pressed his finger against Dean's prostate.

"It's certainly a hell of a lot better when you care about the other person," Dean said. 

"That, too," Sam agreed and slid a second finger in Dean. "But you bond with someone you care about. It brings you closer."

Dean nodded, arms wrapped tight around Sam. "More," he whispered.

Sam spread his fingers and eased the muscles apart. He worried a little about the lack of lube, but Dean preferred less. "You want me to bareback?"

"Fuck yeah, Sammy." Dean spread his legs wider, bringing his feet up to rest on the bed and lifting his hips into Sam's touch. "Please."

"Slut," Sam rumbled and removed his fingers to lube his erection sparingly. Grasping Dean's hips, he gave no quarter, but shoved as deep into Dean as possible.

Dean arched back, neck exposed on a long moan. He wrapped himself around Sam and held him tight. "So fucking good."

"Yes, you are," Sam affirmed. He held himself still and stroked the length of Dean's exposed throat with his right hand. "So tight around me."

Moaning, Dean rocked his hips into Sam's as best he could, head tipping even further back for Sam.

"Offering yourself to me, Dean?" Sam asked, thrusting slowly in and out of Dean. "Making yourself mine?"

"Been yours since the first time you wanted me." Dean rocked himself into Sam, wrapping his legs tight around his lover.

Sam found a rhythm between the pounding Dean favored and the slow glide he preferred and slid in and out of Dean's willing body. "Just us, Dean. All the way."

"All the way," Dean echoed, tangling one hand in Sam's hair and pulling him into a hard, deep kiss.

Sam stilled as they kissed, focusing only on the play of teeth, tongues and lips. He swept Dean up with one strong arm, muscle bulging, and claimed his mouth more fervently.

Dean returned Sam's head kiss, tangling their tongues together and delving his hand into Sam's hair to hold on tight. He arched against Sam's body, loving the way they touched all the way down.

Sam swept a hand all the way down Dean's back and over his ass to where they were joined. He began to thrust again, slow and easy this time, wanting Dean to feel from his head to his toes.

"So good, Sam." Dean released Sam's hair to stroke his hands down Sam's back and cup his ass. He used the leverage to thrust up and into Sam's hips.

"That's my Dean," Sam crooned through soft pants. He found his mark on Dean's neck and sucked it up fresh. "Want everyone to know you're mine."

Dean tipped his head even further to the side. "Want everyone to see, to know that I'm taken and that I belong to you, Sam."

"Girls in bars, they look so disappointed," Sam purred, picking up speed. The slap of their skin together made his blood heat, heart race.

"It's because they want you, Sam, and they know they can't have you." Dean grinned at Sam before tipping his head back on a groan. "Fuck, love this."

Sam slid a hand up Dean all the way to one of his hands and clasped their fingers together as they thrust. He clasped Dean's hips with his other hand, using him for leverage. "Love you, Dean."

Dean's body shuddered at the words. No one had ever loved him before (except his father). "Sammy," he breathed, pulling his lover closer and kissing him deeply.

Sam stilled and kissed Dean back, letting all his feelings pour into their kiss. "Not just heat of the moment, babe. I promise."

"Hope not, Sammy... because I love you, too." Dean lifted his head to kiss Sam deeply.

Sam forwent their lovemaking for a moment to clasp Dean's face in both hands and bestow the tenderest, most passionate kiss he could on his lips. He did love Dean, so much it frightened him, especially given the hunting. But Dean had melted away the sorrow of losing Jess, the harshness of his life before that, fit with him like nobody else ever had... or would.

Dean sank into the kiss, needing and wanting Sam's silent reassurance. He'd never felt so vulnerable (or so close) to anyone else in his life, and it unnerved him to the bone.

Sam eased Dean back to the bed and parted their lips. "My Dean." He began to thrust again, gazing straight into Dean's eyes and letting him see everything.

"My Sammy," Dean said, arching up against Sam's body. He rocked his hips into each of Sam's thrusts.

"Can't believe you found me," Sam said. He leaned down and pressed kisses all over Dean's freckles.

"Me either," Dean said. "I can't believe that you believed me... that you wanted to come along."

"Or that you decided to take me with you," Sam murmured. He kissed Dean again, tongue stabbing deep in time with his cock.

Dean kissed Sam back, falling quietly into their lovemaking. He held Sam tight and met each thrust with his own.

"That's my Dean," Sam murmured into Dean's mouth. "So good for me. Want me so much, don't you?"

"Fuck yeah, Sam. Want you so much," Dean moaned, rolling his body under Sam's.

"Close?" Sam asked, fisting Dean and stroking his cock firmly. "Ready to come for me again?"

"Only if you come with me." Dean scrabbled at Sam's back, responding almost helplessly to Sam's touches.

Sam chuckled and kissed Dean all over his face. "My Dean," he said, voice deep and almost dark. "I love fucking you so much. Love being buried in your body."

"Love you too, Sammy," Dean said, voice still full of the awe at the depth and breadth of his feelings for Sam.

"Gonna make me used to hearing you say it, Dean," Sam rumbled. "Gonna want to hear it all the time." He thrust harder, eyes rolling a little. "Close."

Dean moaned. "Will say it as much as you want, Sammy." He tugged Sam in for a deeper kiss.

Sam separated their joined mouths only when his release became imminent. "Now," he ordered, dragging the callous of his thumb over and over the sensitive spot just below the head of Dean's cock. "Come, Dean."

Responding to Sam's command and his touch, Dean lost his control and came hard and fast between them. He shuddered, clinging to Sam and panting harshly.

Sam managed to wait until Dean finished before succumbing to his own pleasure. He bit into Dean's neck and growled low in his throat the whole time. When his hips ceased stuttering, he pulled back and winced a little at the mark in his lover's flesh. "Dean."

"Sam?" Dean asked, questioning the odd sound in Sam's voice. He forced his eyes open, lips curving in a pleased smile while he stretched slightly.

"I bit too hard," Sam whispered, smoothing a finger over the mark. "I'm sorry."

Dean arched his throat.  "Didn't even feel it like that."  He tipped his head back for a kiss.  "No apologies."

Sam kissed him with full tongue and rubbed over the mark on Dean's neck with gentle fingers.  "It's where anyone can see it, too."   

 

"I don't care, Sam.  Not like I need to hide it, right?"  Dean said after breaking from the kiss.

"Not as far as I'm concerned," Sam promised and rolled on his back, pulling Dean over him.   "I want a matching one."  He lifted his neck to Dean.

Dean chuckled.  "Now I can do that," he said, before dipping his head to Sam's throat and sucking up a deep, dark mark.

Sam groaned in a combination of pleasure, desire and pain, even as he dropped his head back further to encourage Dean.  "Yeah.  Come on, Dean." 

Biting and sucking at Sam's skin, Dean finally pulled back and traced one finger lightly over the bruise.  "Now everyone who sees us will see the matching marks."

Sam sighed happily and stroked Dean's head, pulling him down for a kiss.  "I like that."

"So do I," Dean said, still marveling at times with how much Sam meant to him already.

"Tomorrow, we're back on the hunt," Sam said and cradled Dean to him.  "We'll be on the road the same way we always are... but so much better." 

Dean hummed his agreement, settling into Sam's body.  "Sounds good to me, Sammy."  
~~~~~~~~~~

Sam leaned against the Impala and watched a big truck pull up in the motel parking lot with unease. He and Dean had tackled a pagan god in the guise of a scarecrow, a phantom truck and an evil ghost in an asylum, since Dean's talk with John. They had bonded more both as lovers and as hunting partners, until Sam swore they moved as if they had known each other all their lives. But now, chance had sent John Winchester their way on a hunt against a potential demon in Chicago. 

Dean exited the main office of the motel, stopping short when he saw his dad's truck pulling into a space. Catching himself, he started forward again, tossing the second key to Sam before he came to lean next to him on the Impala. "So, that's Dad... looks like he's decided to check in with us after all."

Sam caught the key easily and said, "Once we met him in the alley, I knew he wasn't going to just let this go." He looked over at Dean. "How do we play this?"

"We're not playing it any way, Sam. It is what it is, and he's either going to accept it or he can fuck off." Dean grinned wickedly, nudging Sam.

"Well, that's one way to go," Sam said with a smile. He kissed Dean softly. "I don't really want to ruin your relationship with the only family you have left, though."

Dean gripped Sam's head and kissed him back firmly. "I don't want to lose him, but you wouldn't be the one ruining it... he would."

Sam cupped Dean's ass in both big hands. "You're something else, Dean." He kissed him again, sucking on his lower lip.

Wrapping his arm around Sam's neck, Dean sank into the kiss and melted into Sam's body. "It's nothing less than the truth.”

John Winchester cleared his throat uncomfortably and glared at Dean. "You checked in yet?"

"Yeah," Dean said, turning his head to stare his father down. "We've got room twenty. First one on the end, second floor." It was both a warning and an offer... if John wanted to be close, he could, but Dean was with Sam.

John blinked at Dean and flicked his eyes over Sam. He had to admit, the other man was impressively built and seemed to work well with Dean. But everything inside him said that he was _wrong_ and needed to get away from Dean immediately. "I'll get a room nearby."

Dean nodded, pulling back slightly. "We'll get unloaded. C'mon over when you're settled?"

John nodded curtly and headed for the office without even looking at Sam.

Sam sighed and said, "I guess meeting me didn't win him over."

"It takes Dad awhile to warm to anyone." Dean pulled Sam in for another kiss before pulling back again and moving to grab some of their stuff out of the trunk.

Sam grabbed his duffle and one of the weapon's bags, before heading after Dean. "I'm not sure either of us will live that long."

Dean barked out a laugh. "My opinion's the only one that matters, Sam."

Sam laughed too and bumped Dean with his hip. "Tell him that. I'm a good hunter, but if he decided to hurt me, I'd be a bloody splotch on the wall."

"I won't let that happen, Sam," Dean said, hoisting his bags and slamming the trunk closed. He led Sam up the closest stairs and then down the hall, glad they'd given him a room away from the office.

"He's pretty scary. You're brave to have gone up against him for so long." Sam watched John exit the office and head for the stairs.

Dean huffed a laugh. "Yeah, but he's also my dad, and I know he loves me... even if he doesn't always show it well."

Sam smiled sadly. "That must be nice... even if it is hard. Sometimes- sometimes if I think really hard, I think I remember what that felt like. There was somebody who loved me like that... like family."

"You deserve every bit of it. I wish you could have had it, too." Dean opened the room and kicked the door wide before tossing both bags on the bed nearest to the door.

"Does he- I mean- does your father mourn Sam?" Sam asked, putting his bags on the same bed. "Fuck, I would kill for a king bed."

Dean huffed a laugh. "Yeah, they were all out of kings... best I could get was two queens." He kicked off his shoes and moved to pull Sam into his arms. "I think he does, though he doesn't show it much."

Sam tugged Dean back to the bed and fell to the mattress, Dean on top. He cradled him close, knowing how much it still hurt him to talk about his brother. "I wish I had more luck finding him for you. This last dead end has been a killer."

"You'll unearth him, Sammy, I know you will." Dean leaned in and kissed him gently.

Sam kicked off his boots and rolled Dean on the bed next to him, kissing back. He groaned when there was a loud knock at the door.

Dean chuckled harshly, used to his dad interrupting him. "One sec," he called out, kissed Sam deeply and then got up. Dean adjusted himself in his jeans with a wry grin, moving to open the door.

John frowned at Dean, knowing the way he looked when he was getting it on. "I want to talk to you... about the hunt."

"C'mon in, Dad," Dean said, opening the door and gesturing John inside. "We can all talk about the case in here."

Sam sat up on the bed and tried to school his hair and features to something respectful and ready. He knew he probably looked half-fucked and annoyed... which he was.

John eyed Sam and nodded, sitting himself at the motel table. "I think it's one of the YED's offspring."

"Really?" Dean asked, immediately intent on the topic. It was the closest they'd come to the YED in years.

John nodded and said, "This hunt is important, Dean. Maybe the most important we've ever had."

"Sounds good to me. Maybe we can finally waste the bastard." Dean couldn't help the excitement thrumming through his veins. If they managed to win this one, he and Sam could concentrate on finding his brother.

John frowned and shook his head at Dean. "Don't get ahead of yourself. We need to trap the demon and get it to talk about how to find the YED. We don't even know if we can do that yet."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head at himself. "With the three of us working the case, we should be ahead of the game."

Sam glanced at John, who did not seem at all impressed with the idea of the three of them working together. "I'm game to do whatever it takes."

Tossing Sam a grateful smile for jumping in, Dean turned back to John. "I think we stand a good chance at it together. How much research have you done?"

John scowled a little more and said, "Just the basics. The demon is strong... stronger than a normal demon."

"Does that mean normal ways of banishing a demon or holding it in a devil's trap won't work?" Sam asked, looking between the two Winchesters.

John nodded and grunted. "And we have bigger things planned than that. We need to make it talk. Tell us where the YED is, and what he's got planned. Because something is definitely going on with him."

Dean nodded. "Sam was doing some research and tracking some of the bigger disturbances." He pushed up from the bed and dug out the journal they'd started together.

John looked at the new journal with something akin to disbelief. "You've started a journal?" he asked, as if it were the ultimate proof that Dean had abandoned him.

"Sam did to get himself up to speed... and it's been real helpful since yours stays with you." Dean smiled at his dad, knowing that John relied on his own journal more than anything (or anyone) else.

John glanced over at Sam again, eyes hard. "You're certainly relying on your Sam a lot, Dean."

Dean clenched his jaw, rolling his shoulders slightly. "I am... he's made an excellent hunting partner, Dad. His knowledge and researching ability surpasses what I can do.”

Sam reached out to stroke down Dean's spine in a soothing manner, not believing the words, but grateful for them. "I care about hunting, Mr. Winchester."

John nodded shortly and said, "You'd better be up for the challenge, cause I'm not going to cut you any slack."

Dean groaned, but leaned back into Sam's touch. "You never cut anyone slack, Dad." He grinned at his father, affection lacing those words because he knew he'd not be half the man or the hunter he was without John (even if there were more times his father drove him crazy than he liked to think about).

"We need to lure the demon into the open and catch it in a devil's trap, slightly modified to make it stronger than normal. For that, we need bait. Fortunately, Winchesters make good bait." 

"That we do. You or me, Dad?" Dean asked, knowing that he was likely to get used, unless his dad thought they'd need the stronger incentive of the older Winchester. 

Sam stiffened at the idea of using Dean as bait, but John said, "You. I want a chance to work with Sam here and know you can handle yourself in a pinch."

"Works for me," Dean said, standing up to stretch. "Anyone else hungry?"

Sam blinked at Dean and said, "I'm not sure I like you being used as bait."

Dean grinned at Sam and then tangled his fingers in Sam's hair. "It'll be fine. You and Dad'll have my back, and I trust you."

Sam forgot about John and pulled Dean into a soft kiss. "Dean. It's the demon I don't trust."

"I know, but I trust you both to take care of me," Dean said, kissing Sam back firmly. "Now, you want pizza, steak or Chinese?"

Sam stiffened as John made a disgruntled noise behind them. "Whatever you want," he said softly. "Dean..."

Dean kissed Sam once more and then pulled back before shooting his father a warning look. "What Sam?"

Sam shook his head and said, "Chinese. Jerk."

John snorted and returned Dean's glare with one of his own. "I need to speak to you, Dean. Outside."

"Bitch," Dean said fondly before kissing Sam again, ignoring John for a minute. "Order us the regular, plus broccoli beef for Dad and an extra crab rangoon and two extra egg rolls, ok?" He stood tall again and then turned to follow John out of the room.

Sam nodded and headed for the phone, worried about what John might want to say to Dean.

John walked far enough away from the room that they could not be easily overheard. "Dean, I don't- I don't get a good feeling about this Sam character."

"Dad," Dean said, a warning tone in his voice. "Unless you can tell me what it is you _know_ to be wrong about him, then I'm going with my gut feelings about Sam. And that is that he's a great guy."

"Do you love him?" John asked, forcing the words out. He never had any ability to discuss feelings with Dean.

Dean opened and closed his mouth, staring at his dad before finally nodding. "Yeah, I do."

"Jesus," John muttered, face paling. He rubbed a hand over his features and sagged back against the wall. "I really don't get a good feeling about him, Dean. It's not just me being suspicious."

"But I don't get why, Dad. Sam's done nothing that can be considered suspicious other than have his girlfriend burned by the YED." Dean pleaded with his dad to understand his father's reticence. He couldn't see what John did in regards to Sam, nor did he want to.

"I know. I wish I could tell you what it was. But there's nothing concrete." John took a step toward Dean and put a hand on his shoulder. "I need to do some research about him. Until I'm sure... will you be more careful?"

Dean bit his lower lip, but nodded reluctantly. "I'm not going to stop loving him because you're researching, but I won't discount your feelings either." He'd trusted his dad for most of his life and knew better than to discount his feelings.

"What will you do?" John asked. 

"I don't know, Dad. Sam's not done anything to worry me... and I do love him. Just let me do what I'll do." Dean turned surprisingly vulnerable eyes on his father, the thought of Sam not being trustworthy one that would haunt him.

John studied his eyes and nodded shortly. "Could you kill him, if you needed to?"

"No," Dean said, thought unnecessary. "Unless he's a demon, I can't imagine needing to, but if he is a demon then I could."

"Well, that he's not," John said. "The water I gave you both before was holy." He frowned deeper. "Could you give him up?"

Dean scowled at his father, but wasn't surprised at all that John fed them holy water. He'd done it before to other people. "I don't want or plan to give him up, Dad. Unless he's something supernatural, there's no reason to think about that."

"I had to be sure," John said at Dean's expression. "You've never brought anybody into our lives before or trusted them with so much. I wanted to be sure you weren't affected. I'm still not sure."

"I know you have to be sure on your own, but I wish you'd trust me, Dad. Sam's just who he appears to be- a great guy. Though I'm not happy he was hit by tragedy, I am happy that he’s in my life, ‘cause I love him." Dean shrugged, a bit more relaxed since John didn't seem to be as hell bent on trying to force him to dump Sam.

John forced out a few breaths and then said, "If I find something out about him, I'll kill him myself, if need be."

"You'll have to go through me, Dad. Don't let it come to that." Dean stared his father down, unwilling to give John permission to just do as he wished.

"Then at least I know where I stand," John said, forcing any unsteadiness out of his voice. "It's been a long time coming, but I knew it would happen." His hands clenched into fists, and he looked at his feet. "I never meant to drop Sammy."

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times before nodding curtly. "I know you didn't, Dad. I do, but I can't help remember how he cried for me and I didn't help him. Neither of us helped him, and we left him there. It's my blame too." Rubbing a hand over his mouth, Dean looked at his Dad. "Please don't make me choose between you and this Sam. I don't want to lose either of you."

"I have more nightmares about his calling for you then I do about Mary," John said. "He was her spitting image... even that little." His face hardened then, and he lifted his head to Dean. "And I won't let anything happen to her other boy on my watch. Even if it hurts him."

"Sam's not going to do anything to me, Dad." Dean begged his father with his eyes, for trust and for the patience to see how amazing Sam was.

John hunched his shoulders, but nodded. "I hope I don't find out anything about him to make me think otherwise. If I don't... I'll try to accept your choice of partner."

Dean smiled at his father, one of the most open smiles he'd given John in a long time. "Thanks, Dad, I think you're going to like Sam."

And that smile made John ache in a way he hadn’t in years. He drudged up a real smile for his son and then clapped him once on the back. "I hope you're right about him, Dean. It's been a long time since I've seen you happy."

Blushing, Dean ducked his head slightly and looked at John from the corner of his eyes. "I am, Dad. Both right and happy... you'll see."

John nearly staggered at the sight of Dean, his cool, unflappable son. "Jesus, you really do love this kid."

"I'd never have trusted him so completely if I didn't, Dad." Dean smiled at John.

John nodded and wiped a hand over his face. "And yet, I don't. I wish I knew why."

Dean frowned slightly. "I wish you knew why too, Dad."

"Well, we'll see if I can find out," John said. "I want to make sure he is right for you."

"Thanks," Dean said. "Let's have some Chinese and plan how to use me as bait."

John nodded and said, "You go on up, Dean. I want to do a few things down here first."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, just don't take too long." He reached out and squeezed his dad's shoulder before tucking his hands in his jeans and turning back to his room.

John pulled out his cell and dialed one of the few numbers on speed dial. "Hello, Missouri?"

"Well if it isn't John Winchester dialing my phone. How've you been?" Missouri asked, knowing it tickled his funny bone when she asked him such simple things.

"You know how I've been," John said, feeling a bit of weight fall off his shoulders at her voice. "Do you have any notion of my problem?"

"I can tell you're worried about Dean," Missouri countered, but didn't elaborate.

"He's, uh... found himself a man." John shut his eyes at the thought of the tall, broad-shouldered man currently up in the room, alone with Dean. "Named Sam."

"Sam, huh?" Missouri asked. "Quite a coincidence."

"There's something about him... something that bothers me," John said. "Especially since Dean really seems to love him. I haven't seen him act like this since our Sammy was with us."

"Not since your Sammy?" she asked, actually surprised by John's assessment.

"He's never loved anyone else that way," John said.  "Until now.  But something strikes me as off about the man.  I wish to God it didn't.  I'd like you to meet him, see if you can tell anything about him."

"Where are you?"  Missouri was concerned enough about the situation to ask, though she mostly made people come to her.  John wasn't one to alarm easily, and his unease sparked the same feeling in her.

"Chicago.  We're hunting a demon... I can bring Dean and his Sam to you, though, once we’re done.  Didn't you say there was something going on in our old house that we could look into?"  John clenched his teeth at the idea of going back to Lawrence,

"Yes Sir, there certainly is.  And nothing good, let me say."  Missouri shook her head.  "You bring those boys to see me, and we'll get you the answers you're seeking, John Winchester."

"I don't know what Dean's gonna do, if this Sam turns out to be bad news.  He loves him... I think he may fight for him, no matter what."

Missouri frowned.  "Well, let's hope that your bad feeling is just from being an overprotective father."

"Thanks, Missouri.  Dean means everything to me."  John heaved a harsh sigh.  "I wish I knew better how to tell him that."

"He knows, even if he forgets sometimes."  Missouri bit her lip.  "Any way you can give this Sam a chance?  It'd mean the world to Dean for you to try."

"I'm not a trusting man," John said, "but if you don't notice anything off about him... then I'll try to accept that Dean has found himself a new partner.  A better one than his dad has ever been."

"Don't be too hard on yourself or think that Dean thinks poorly of you."  Missouri smiled indulgently.  "For a long time, you both were each other's worlds, but he's a man in his own right now, John.  It's time he found himself, and this Sam sounds better than the women you've mentioned to me over the years."

John snorted and found himself nodding.  "He never did anything more than have one night stands with any of the women I ever saw him with.  Hell, I didn't even know he liked men until he showed up with this one..."

Missouri chuckled, low and deep.  "Oh, John, any boy who enjoyed sex as much as yours was bound to be interested in the entire spectrum.  I'd not be surprised by anything he's done or thought of doing."

John groaned at the idea and waved a hand in the air as though Missouri could see.  "Ok, well, that's more than I want to think of.  I need to get back to my son... and Sam.  We have stuff to work out.  I'll call you before we head your way."

"Sounds good, John, and do try to give him the benefit of the doubt.  Dean's a smart young man with good instincts."  Missouri frowned slightly as she hung up the phone.  She'd done her best to put John at ease, but his worry had seeped into her and she wondered what the future held for the three men in Chicago.  
~~~~~~~~~~

Meg laughed evilly, head tipped back and eyes on Dean. "Hey sweetie, I've heard a lot about you... and your new lover over there." She flicked her eyes to Sam and grinned at him.

Sam swallowed hard and darted a glance at Dean. He shook his head, signaling he had no idea what she meant. His eyes turned toward John, whose face had tightened even more as he read aloud the spell that would banish the demon back to Hell.

Dean eyed the demon in from of them. "I don't really care what you're hearing down there... at least not about me." He smiled back at her, intent in his gaze. "What I do want to know is where is the YED? How do we get him to come to us?"

"You can't, Dean Winchester. My father's only going to come for you when and where he wants... and boy, he does want to," Meg chuckled, before screaming when John ended a verse of the spell.

John leaned forward and said, "Tell us what you meant about him." He pointed at Sam, who jerked back with a soft curse.

Dean scowled at John. "Don't get off track, Dad. We're here to find Yellow Eyes." He leaned in to Meg. "Tell me where to find him."

Sam cleared his throat and said softly, "I'd like to hear what she has to say about me, Dean. As you told me, demons lie, except when they tell the truth."

"Which is why we shouldn't trust anything she says... though it'll likely be a starting point." Dean scowled at the idea of Meg poisoning Sam's mind.

Sam stepped toward Meg, trapped in the circle and said, "Whatever it is you want to say, go ahead."

"Sammy, my boy." Meg let out a demonic giggle. "You're one of father's 'special' children... a select number gifted with demon blood as babies."

Sam shook his head and took a step back. "I- I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," he spit at her. "I have no ties to any damn demons."

"What can he do?" John demanded. "What the fuck will he become?" He suddenly had a gun pointed at Sam, aimed for his heart.

"Dad," Dean screamed, scrambling back and shoving himself in front of Sam so that John's gun was pointing at him. "Don't you tell me that now's the time you're going to listen to a demon." 

Sam tried to move back into John's line of fire, not wanting Dean hit. "Dean. I'm not evil, Mr. Winchester. She's lying about the demon blood. She must be. I can drink holy water; I know you spiked our drinks with it!"

John remained unwavering, keeping his gun aimed at Sam. "What is he, bitch? Tell me!"

"Oh, he's human, John Winchester. But my daddy has a special interest in this Sam." Meg cackled at the scene unfolding before her.

"Dad! Get that gun off of Sam if you ever want to see me again in this life." Dean moved again to be in front of Sam.

Sam glanced at them all and said, "I'll never willing help any demon. Dean, please, don't." He turned back toward Meg and began to finish the spell John had started to banish the demon from memory. 

"You, shut up!" John said and fired a warning shot that grazed Sam's cheek and left him bleeding and shaken. "Tell me what the plans are, bitch!"

Dean lunged and shoved John against the wall, arm up against John's throat while he did his best to hold his father to the wall. "Finish the spell, Sam!"

John fought back, trying to throw Dean off. "She needs to tell us what Sam is! Don't stop me, Dean!"

Sam kept going, but his attention kept shifting back to the fight behind him. He couldn't break the spell, no matter how much he wanted to tell them to stop, to find out what Meg really meant.

"Fuck you, Dad. You shot Sam!" Dean kept his entire body pressing John into the wall. "I don't care what a damn demon has to say about him... you don't know that's not all lies anyway."

Meg screamed as Sam recited the spell, her essence being ripped slowly from the girl's body.

"I shot only to warn him, not to hurt him," John yelled back. "He's got demon blood in him! We need to know what that means!"

"You hit him. He's bleeding." Dean stared John down. "I don't care what she has to say."

Sam finished the next verse and said softly, "Tell me about the blood, before I rip you out and send you back where you belong."

"Now why would I give you anything, Sam? You're going to send me back to hell." Meg grinned at him, weaker than she'd been in a long time.

Sam's lips curled back from his teeth in a dangerous smile. "If you're telling the truth, then know that whatever was given to me, I'll use to fight you. I'll never help you or any of your kind." He began the words again, louder and firmer now.

"See, he doesn't even deny it," John yelled and shoved Dean hard, aiming a kick to his right knee to disable him.

Dean stumbled back from John, crumpling to the ground with a cry of pain at his father's blow. Not wanting to let John reach Sam, Dean grunted and rolled wide, wrapping his arms around John's legs and pulling him to the floor.

John hit the ground with a grunt, losing his gun. He grappled with his son, cursing how well Dean had learned everything he taught him. "Please, Dean, he's a threat to us... to you."

"No! You're the threat, Dad." Dean rolled John under him, dragging him further away from the gun. "I won't let you hurt Sam."

Meg screamed long and loud when Sam finished off the spell, pouring from her hosts body and dissipating into the devil's trap.

Sam caught the host's body before she hit the floor and laid her out carefully. Checking her vitals quickly and nodding in relief to find she seemed all right, he stood and rushed for John’s fallen gun. "She's still alive, Dean. But somebody may have heard the shot. We need to get out of here." 

"Yeah. I'm right with you, Sam." Dean shoved his father away, scrambling to his feet with a curse of pain. "Grab our stuff... I'll call 911 on our way out and get an ambulance on the way." He looked at his father, coldness in his eyes. "Don't come near me again."

"Dean, please, go to Missouri Mosley in Lawrence. She knew us when we were just any other family. She's waiting to meet you and Sam. Please, Dean. She'll know what he is." John reached out a hand to his son.

Dean scowled at John. "Sam isn't a what, Dad. He's a man and my partner. You have no respect for anyone and anything that isn't as you want it to be. We're not going anywhere you want us to. I don't trust you anymore."

Sam touched Dean's shoulder gently and directed him out the door, with a last look at John Winchester. "We'll go," he promised him.  
~~~~~~~~~~

Sam leaned back in the Impala and watched Dean through half-closed eyes, nearly seeing steam rising from his ears. "I know you don't want to hear this again, Dean, but I think we ought to see your father's friend."

"No!" Dean grit out, hands tightening on the steering wheel. "I'm not doing anything he wants."

"Dean, what if the demon was telling the truth about me?" Sam asked. "What if I am what she said? Shouldn't we find out what that means?”

Dean ground his teeth together. "I really don't want to talk about this, Sam. She was obviously trying to cause trouble and she has." 

Sam put a hand on Dean's right leg and stroked gently, trying to soothe him. "Yeah, a lot of trouble. I'm sorry... about your father. I wanted him to like me."

"I know you did, Sammy, and he couldn't even give you a chance." Dean dropped a hand to Sam's and tangled their fingers together.

"That was the demon's fault, truth or not. Not his. He's afraid for you, Dean. You're all he has in the world. I understand that... you're all I have, too. And that's why I need to know about me."

Dean frowned. "I get that, but he shot you! That's not so easily forgivable."

"I know, Dean," Sam said and squeezed his leg gently, "but I have something to say about this, too. And she was talking about me."

Gritting his teeth, Dean acknowledged to himself that Sam had a right to know. "I'm not going in. You want to see this Missouri. I'll take you, but I don't want to hear anything she has to say."

Sam rubbed Dean's leg in a slow, easy pattern. "You want me to face her alone?"

"No, but I don't care what anyone has to say, Sam. I love and trust you." Dean shot Sam a pained look, knowing he'd go wherever Sam asked him to.

Sam smiled and squeezed Dean’s knee. "I know that. It's why it's even more important that we know what's coming, so there's no chance of anything taking us by surprise. You won't desert me, no matter what we find out. There's never been a doubt in my mind about that."

Dean sighed. "Fine, we'll go talk to this Missouri woman."

"If you weren't driving, I'd kiss you," Sam said. 

Snorting, Dean tossed another pained look at Sam. "I'm going, but I want it noted that I'm not going because I want to."

"I don't think either of us are exactly looking forward to this," Sam said, "but I need to know."

"We both should know," Dean said, grudgingly. "Doesn't mean I have to like it, though. Doesn't mean I'm going to believe what this Missouri woman says, either."

"Just because she's a friend of your fathers doesn't mean she's going to lie to us," Sam said. 

"You have no idea if Dad called her to ask her to tell us something that he wants us to believe, either." Dean scowled at the thought, hating that they were going in completely blind.

"Think he'd do that?" Sam asked.  "I mean... he is your father.  I'd like to think he'd at least get an honest opinion of what I am."

"I'd like to think so, Sam.  But he shot you!  He wasn't willing to even think that the demon might be lying..."  Dean gripped the steering wheel until the leather creaked under his hands.  "He fucking **shot** you."

"He grazed me," Sam said, tracing the fading wound with his free hand.  "It was deliberately aimed not to really hurt me.  Just to back me off."

Dean flicked a glare at Sam.  "Why are you defending a man who'd sooner see you disappear altogether?  I don't care if he only meant to warn you.  He had no right."

"Because I love you and understand his desire to protect you from any and all harm."  Sam traced Dean's inseam and pressed gently into the bulge of his crotch.  "And I hate to cause a rift between you and your father.  He's the only family you have, and I know you care for him."

Dean sighed, spreading his thighs slightly and pressing into Sam's touch.  "I don't want to be at odds with him, either, but you don't understand... nothing's ever been good enough with or for him.  I'm not allowed to be happy... you’re the first person I've ever wanted, and he wants to deny me that."

"Well, we won't allow it, Dean.  Unless you tell me to go, nothing can drag me away from you."  Sam loved how Dean accepted his touch, asking for more by opening his legs.  

"Never going to push you away, Sam."  Dean smiled at his lover, reached over and stroked his arm.  "Never."

Sam caught Dean's hand with his own and twined their fingers.  "So, heading for Kansas, then?"

Dean scowled again.  "Heading to Kansas."  
~~~~~~~~~~

Sam stared at the pleasant, well-maintained home with its perfect garden and turned to Dean.  "Hard to believe a hunter lives here." 

"Yeah, most of the ones I've met definitely lead a more ramshackled lifestyle... kinda like mine.  Ours."  Dean smiled at Sam and wrapped his arm around Sam's neck.

Sam turned and put his hands on Dean's waist, leaning in to kiss him.  He licked gently into his mouth and tangled their tongues.  They had been very passionate the night before, as their worries about what the day might bring bled into their lovemaking.

Dean sank into the kiss with a deep moan, pulling Sam even closer and kissing him with all of the love and worry pent up inside him.  The last thing Dean wanted was for them to face Missouri.

Sam transferred his hands, one to Dean's back and one to his ass.  He used the one on his ass to pull him closer, even as the other stroked soothingly up and down the strong planes of his back.  

Clearing her throat, Missouri leaned against the door frame.  "You two gentlemen can come up for air any time you like," she teased.  Dean didn't pull away immediately, kissing Sam one last time before he turned.  "You must be Missouri," he said, eying her with distrust.

Sam turned and found himself facing one of the nicest looking people he'd ever seen.  He smiled at her, dimples deep, trusting her instantly.  "He's Dean Winchester, and I'm Sam Diablo," he said.  Gently separating himself from Dean, he strode forward with his right hand outstretched.

Missouri took Sam's hand, jolting slightly at the power coursing through him.  "Sam... Diablo, you say?" she asked, eying him as though he were trying to pull one over on her.  

Sam blinked, too, and then smiled.  "Well, I gave myself that name.  I don't actually know what my real name is." 

"Named yourself," Missouri muttered and then turned slowly and eyed Dean.  "You look just like your daddy when he was your age.  C'mon in boys."

  Dean shook his head slightly, unused to meeting anyone who knew what his father was like as a young man.  "Thank you for seeing us. I'm sure Dad called ahead."

Sam glanced at Dean with a smile and followed after Missouri into a warm kitchen.

"Have a seat, I'll put on some tea.  And you will drink it, Dean Winchester," Missouri said.  Dean startled when she caught out what he was thinking, flushing slightly.  "Yes, ma'am.”  

Sam sat down at the table and grinned at Dean. "You read minds, ma'am?"

"Of course I do, Sam. Why do you think John sent you here?" Missouri smiled kindly at him.

Sam gave Dean a glance. "I think you know that we're not entirely sure of Mr. Winchester's motivation, ma'am."

Dean scowled. "His motivation is plenty clear, Sam. He wants you gone and me miserable." 

Missouri frowned. "You don't really believe that." She tilted her head again. "How could you really think that about John, boy? He's done his best by you."

Dean gritted his teeth and lifted his chin. "If he didn't want me to be miserable, why won't he give Sam a chance?"

Sam reached out and stroked Dean's arm gently. "In all fairness to Dean, he did shoot at me. Grazed my cheek. And it was perfectly clear from the start that he didn't care much even for the idea of me."

"Didn't care much!" Dean snorted. "He was telling me to dump you on the side of the road from the first phone call."

Sam chuckled and leaned over to kiss Dean softly. He nuzzled his cheek and whispered, "Hey, I'm still here, yeah? Not going anywhere."

Missouri chuckled. "Sounds like John. He loves you, Dean. When you both lost your Sammy, his heart broke. Try and give him the benefit of the doubt where his love for you is concerned."

"That's what I keep saying," Sam said. "Of course, it's hard when I'm the one he's trying to get rid of. You know what the demon said?"

Dean scowled at them both. "Dad's never given me any reason to think he cares about my happiness. Everything's about the hunt and the YED."

Missouri sighed loudly at Dean, turning to look at Sam. "Why don't you tell me exactly what she said?"

Sam took Dean's right hand in his and stroked the knuckles soothingly. "Something about my having demon blood in me."

"You do have demon blood in you, but likely not in the way that you or John thinks... it's more of a faint trace. You're powerful, Sam... you have untapped talents that will serve you well." Missouri stared deeply at him.

Sam blinked and sat back, eyes wide. "You mean- I'm related to a demon somehow?"

Missouri shook her head. "No, you're not related, but you've been fed blood or ingested it somehow."

"That sounds... gross," Sam said with a face. "I don't remember that... you'd think that would be traumatizing enough to remember." He leaned into Dean. "So, from that will come powers?"

Dean wrapped his arm around Sam, pulling him in close and tight. "Can you explain, Missouri?"

Missouri smiled at Dean's acceptance and nodded. "I can to some extent. Sam was already powerful, but the infusion of blood he received has heightened those powers. Have you had any unusual happenings...especially in the last few months?"

"Just the visions," Sam said softly. "And I have no control over those. They steamroll right into my dreams and leave the worst headaches behind."

"You have visions?" Missouri asked, intrigued.

Gripping Sam tighter, Dean did not like the way her eyes sparkled at the possibilities.

"Always of bad things," Sam said, "and not always of ones we can prevent. I don't know of any other powers."

"What kind of bad things?" Missouri asked. "Can you tell me some of them?

"I see when bad things happen. Supernatural things. Sometimes, I get the dream and can decipher it in time to get us there and save the person. Other times, I see things that have already happened. And once in awhile, I see something while it happens. Those are the worst." Sam shivered and leaned into Dean.

Dean stroked Sam's back. "Is this really necessary?" He tugged Sam in closer and held him tight. 

"I don't mind, Dean," Sam said. "Am I evil?"

Missouri shook her head. "Not in the least, Sam. You have one of the most pure spirits I've ever met... second only to Dean here." She smiled, eyes laughing at Dean's indignation.

Sam's eyes traveled to Dean, and he grinned at the idea of him being pure.  "That's good to know.  So, what does the demon blood mean then?  Will they be after me?"

"I can't see that, but it wouldn't surprise me in the least.  From all the things I've seen happen around John Winchester, they will likely want to get at you... if only to get at him and his son."  Missouri smiled kindly, but there was a strong note of warning in her voice.

Sam tilted his head back and raised an eyebrow at Missouri.  "As much as I'd like to believe that they'd only be after me to get at the Winchesters, this happened to me long before I knew them.  Since it was so long ago I don't actually remember it.  I think they're plans are a bit more complex than that."

Missouri tipped her head back and laughed.  "You're definitely a smart one, Sam.  I was wondering if you'd see that logic through."  She winked at him and then served them out some tea before sitting back again.  "What do you think was John's biggest issue with you, Sam?"

Sam glanced at Dean and then back at Missouri.  "You mean before the whole demon blood thing?  He has serious trust issues."  He pressed into Dean and kissed his neck possessively.

Dean growled slightly.  "Serious trust issues is an understatement."  He frowned again.  "Dad told me that he has this feeling that something is off with Sam.  Not that he's evil... well until that demon blood thing... but that something was just off."

A cold hand traced up Sam's spine, and he shut his eyes.  "He's got good instincts, your father."

"Stop it, Sammy."  Dean sighed and looked at Missouri.  "You just said he's fine, right?"  

Missouri chuckled.  "I said he's not evil, that he's a pure spirit, but that doesn't mean the demon blood is a non-entity, Dean.  Sam is correct in that they are likely interested in him for their own reasons, though.  It's not going to be easy to deal with them and your father."

"Do you have any idea what other 'powers' may manifest?" Sam asked.  He squeezed Dean's hand.  "Will I be dangerous because of them?"

Missouri shook her head.  "I don't see any of that, just that you are far more powerful than you can begin to understand, Sam."

Sam sighed and reached for Dean.  He kissed him softly and whispered, "Looks like I'm going to be a real problem."

"Stop it, Sam.  You're not a problem, and I'll hurt anyone who suggests it."  Dean smiled at Sam, kissing him gently again.

Sam accepted the kiss happily and then turned his head to Missouri.  "John was pretty upset when he heard I had demon blood in me.  Any chance you can give me a good word with him?"

Missouri laughed.  "Of course, Sam.  There's nothing in you to suggest that you are anything other than you say... a good boy fraught with misfortune until you found your Dean."  She had her own suspicions of why the boys seemed to be so close, so in tune, but until she knew more, Missouri wasn't saying a thing.

"He's the best thing that's ever happened to me," Sam confirmed.  "After the worst thing that ever happened to me."  He turned and pressed his forehead against Dean's shoulder.

Dean tightened his arms around Sam, smiling softly when he laid his cheeks on Sam's head.  "Will you tell us if you see something we should know?" he asked Missouri.  
   
"Absolutely," Missouri assured him.  "And I'll speak to your dad as well."

"Told ya she’d be nice," Sam mumbled into Dean's shirt.  

Laughing, Dean flushed slightly and pressed his face into Sam's hair.  "So you did, Sammy.  So you did."

"Sammy. You always call me Sammy when you're feeling especially affectionate, don't you?" Sam touched Dean's chest with one hand.

Dean blushed lightly. "Yeah, I guess I do, don't I?" He completely forgot Missouri was even there, tangling one hand in Sam's hair and holding him close.

Sam lifted his head and pressed a kiss to Dean's mouth, before gently disentangling himself. "We were afraid you'd have bad news... or would be an opponent."

"I can only tell you what I see, what I know... and I can possibly teach you how to be open to whatever talents you have coming to you." Missouri smiled at the easy affection between the two men.

"Really?  I think that would be a good idea... do you, Dean?"  Sam glanced at his lover with a questioning look.

Dean looked at Sam, saw the want in his eyes and nodded. "Anything you want, Sam."

"I just think it's a good idea, Dean. We're here. And I'm not quite... right. Maybe Missouri can help me use my powers for good." Sam frowned a little. 

"Sam, I meant when I said about anything you want. This is your deal, and if you want help, then I'm happy to stay here with you while you get it." 

Sam looked at Missouri. "Do you think with your help, I could unlock other powers?"

Missouri bit her lower lip and then nodded. "Yes, I do, Sam. I think there's hidden talents deep inside your mind, and you can learn how to better deal with the visions you've mentioned."

"Then I want to stay and learn," Sam said. He squeezed Dean's hand. "Will your father come here to look for us?"

Dean stiffened. "I hope not, but if he does, we'll deal with it."

"Is there somewhere we can stay in Lawrence?" Sam asked. "Somewhere a little better than normal, if we're going to be here awhile?"

"Don't you worry about that, Sammy. I'll find us something." Dean knew he'd figure out whatever Sam needed.

"How long do you think really training me will take?" Sam asked Missouri

Missouri chuckled. "That's hard to say, though I'd like a month at least to get you as much as you want out of the lessons."

"I wonder if we could get one of the motel rooms that are like an apartment. You know, with a kitchen and stuff? I could cook for you." Sam poked Dean’s hard stomach.

Dean laughed. "I'll get you a place to live. Don't worry about that."

"Yeah, but should I trust you?" Sam asked with a little smirk. "The last place you chose solely because of the damn magic fingers bed."

Head tipped back on a laugh, Dean leaned in and kissed Sam. "I promise to get you a nice place."

Sam laughed with him and then hugged him close.  "You've got yourself a pupil, ma'am.  Now, how can we repay you?"

"Sam, you can repay me by learning what I have to teach you and taking care of Dean here."  Missouri smiled kindly at them both. 

 Dean flushed again, wanting to deny her words, but since Sam had come into his life, he felt much happier and fulfilled.

Sam laughed and said, "Looks like you've charmed another lady, Dean."  He shook his head.  "I must have the mange or something."

Missouri chuckled.  "You know very well that you do not, Sam. Dean has not had many people take care of him in his life... much as you have not.  I think you are good for each other."  

Dean grinned.  "I can't help but want to take care of him."

"I'm a big puppydog," Sam said with a grin.  He realized he felt more relaxed than he had in a long time.

"You're a wee puppy just looking for scraps," Dean teased.

"And that's all you give me," Sam said with a pout.  "The scraps of your affection."

Dean nudged Sam in the side.  "That's not remotely true, and you know it."

Sam turned his big eyes on Missouri.  "You should see how he abuses me in private.  Evil."

Missouri snickered.  "Oh Sam, Dean couldn't do that to you even if he wanted... remember how I said you were pure only second to him?"  She tipped her head, eyebrow arched.  "I wasn't kidding about that."

Sam chuckled and turned to blow a raspberry on Dean's cheek.  "Jerk, you have her all wrapped around your pinky."

Dean blushed a beet red and ducked his head low, leaning heavily on Sam.  "Thank you, Missouri.  I was definitely worried about meeting you, when I shouldn't have been."

"He's so sorry for being wrong, he'll treat us both to lunch!  Right, Dean?"  Sam blinded them both with his grin.

Laughing, Dean knew when he was beat.  "If that's what you want, Sam.  You know I can't deny you anything."

Sam stood and pulled Dean with him, tugging him into a kiss.  "Thank you for accepting me, despite the demon blood.  I could still end up evil, you know."

"We won't let that happen, Sam.  Promise."  Dean kissed him again before hugging him tight.  "And while I know it started as a joke, I'm starving, so let's get some food."

"I wasn't joking... except that I'll pay for lunch.  Having money is beneficial."  Sam tugged Dean close and headed for the door.  "Good thing you knew better than to actually turn on the tea, Missouri."

Missouri laughed.  "Boy, that's the least of what I know."  She rose from the table and stretched slightly.  "There's a great Italian place in town we can eat at."

"Italian is perfect.  Dean can eat his weight in spaghetti."  Sam put a hand on Dean's stomach and rubbed little circles in it.  "He's picked up a few pounds lately."

"Hey!" Dean said, moving out of Sam's reach.  "You keep talking like that, and I will give you scraps."

Sam laughed, feeling better than he had since before John Winchester joined them in Chicago.  "Aww, I like the soft belly," he teased.  "Makes you all cuddly."

Dean slapped at Sam's hand, huffing and crossing his arms with a glare.  "Keep going, and you can sleep in your own bed tonight."

Sam slung an arm around Missouri's shoulders and said, "See what I mean?  Abuse."

Missouri shook her head.  "I'm not getting in the middle of your lover's spat... not my business."  

Sam laughed and bowed to her, before taking Dean's hand and pulling him toward the door.  "Come on, lover boy, I'm hungry."  
~~~~~~~~~~

Sam returned to the small apartment he and Dean were renting and collapsed at the kitchen table. "Jesus, Missouri is a slave driver."

Dean laughed, cleaning one of his guns while he looked at Sam. "What did she have you doing today, Sammy?"

"Moving things with my mind," Sam said. "I've gotten to dressers and tables and people now."

Blinking, Dean raised an eyebrow. "Really? So you're moving large objects now, huh? Isn't that a bit advanced?"

"Guh," Sam said and nodded. "I told you she was a slave driver. But we've been concentrating on the telekenisis, since that's what appeared next. I don't want to think about reading people's minds."

Dean laughed. "Please do not read mine, that's all I ask."

"Yours is easy," Sam teased lazily. "Sex. Food. Sex. Hunting. Sex. Sammy. Sex."

"You should know better than that, Sam. You come before food." Dean waggled his eyebrows, laughing at his partner's expression.

"Well, thank you," Sam said and then yawned. "What did you make for dinner?"

"Spaghetti. My specialty." Dean grinned and nodded toward the kitchen. "Just have to toss the salad and the rest should be done in about five minutes."

Sam dragged himself up and headed after Dean. "It doesn't seem fair for you to be doing all the real work around here, Dean. I still think I should take a part time job at the bookstore. Make some more money for us. My own won't last forever."

Dean shook his head. "No Sammy. You can't do both- studying your powers is more important right now."

"I may end up doing that forever, it seems," Sam groaned. "Though Missouri thinks I ought to test out my powers in a hunting situation... your old house."

"My old house?" Dean asked, surprised that it would come up. "What's she think is going on over there?" He'd studiously avoided the life he could only slightly remember.

"There's something in there, Dean. A good testing ground for my abilities. And a chance to do some good, too." Sam frowned and rubbed his forehead. "I've been dreaming about it, but since my lessons, I can control the visions better. I don't get quite such blinding headaches."

Dean smiled, standing when the buzzer in the kitchen went off.  "If you think that's a good idea, then we'll do it tomorrow... or whenever your next session with Missouri is done.  Now, wash up for dinner."  

Sam frowned a little.  "You don't have any problems with this plan, Dean?  I mean... this is the house where your mom died, yeah?  I would have thought that might bring back stuff."

Shoulders tightening, Dean shook his head.  "Trying not to think about it, Sam.  I don't really want to be here in this town at all, but I know that we have to be prepared, at least a little, for what you might be able to do, and that means being here with Missouri to help."

Sam walked behind Dean and began to massage his shoulders.  "You put up with a lot for me, Dean."  He kissed his nape softly.  "I know you don't like to talk much, but if you ever need to... I'm here."   
   
"It's not easy to think about Mom, about being so close to where I lost her."  Dean leaned back into Sam's chest.

"Do you remember her much?" Sam asked, reaching around to rub soothing circles into Dean's stomach.

"Not really," Dean said, letting Sam take his weight and hold him.  "I have images, memories of her... mostly of her pregnant with baby Sammy."

Sam ducked his head to kiss Dean's cheek.  "I'm sorry, Dean.  I'll do some more searching for Sammy tonight.  I have a new idea."  
Dean turned in Sam's arms and hugged him tight.  "If I don't get the steaks, they're going to be overdone." 

"All right, Dean.  I'll go wash up and not be dirty at the dinner table."  Sam kissed him again and then went to wash his hands and face.  
~~~~~~~~~~

Sam lay sprawled on their king-sized bed, wearing only his boxers and staring at a book lying on the dresser across the room.  His eyes narrowed in concentration, and the book lifted slowly off the surface and floated steadily to him.  Grinning in triumph, he caught the book in one hand. 

Dean watched Sam from the doorway to their bathroom, a smile on his face.  He shook his head and pushed away from the doorjamb.  "Show off," he said affectionately.

Sam grinned up at Dean.  "Just practicing.  And I didn't feel like getting up."  He narrowed his eyes again and tugged Dean's towel gently.

Laughing, Dean watched as the knot at his hip loosened slightly.  "You're putting that skill to an interesting use, Sammy."

Sam tugged harder and removed the towel, letting it fall to the floor.  "Nice.  I could get used to doing that."

Dean laughed, shaking his head at Sam before he crossed toward the bed. He stood in front of Sam, staring down at him and his book. "You still interested in reading that?"

Sam set the book aside and tilted his head with a smile. "Maybe not. Want me to show you a few more tricks?"

"Oh yeah, Sam... I want to see all of your tricks." Dean reached out and stroked his hand over Sam's knee.

Sam snorted and concentrated, focusing on running phantom fingers down Dean's chest and over his thighs. "Can you feel that?"

"Jesus, Sammy," Dean said, eyes widening with a shiver.

"Yeah," Sam said and lifted Dean's cock with his mind, watching it seem to rise and pulse on its own. "Fucking hot, De."

Dean tipped his head back on a moan, hands running up and down his thighs. "Oh fuck," he muttered.

"You like that?" Sam asked. He tried to tug more firmly, careful not to hurt Dean. "It takes a lot of concentration."

"Don't want you to have to exert too much effort, Sammy." Dean shuddered, stroking his hand over Sam's knee again.

"The expression on your face... it's worth the effort," Sam whispered. 

Dean dipped his head slightly, breathing harshly. "God, Sam... so good. It's like a faint trace of your fingers on me."

"Want more than a faint trace?" Sam asked, and reared up on his knees to lick Dean's stomach. He worked up to his nipples and suck on one and then focused on making it feel like the other one was being sucked, too, a new trick for him.

"Fuck yeah, I love your touch. The way you know just how to excite me." Dean reached out and dug his fingers through Sam's hair.

Sam kissed Dean's mouth and sucked on his lower lip, before falling back to the bed and letting his phantom hands run over Dean instead. "This is a fun way to practice."

Dean choked on a laugh. "Yeah, I bet it is. You gonna let me join you on the bed?"

"Mmm, maybe." Sam focused as intensely as he could and lifted Dean off the ground, floating him on his back and aiming for the bed.

"Holy fuck."  Dean trembled until Sam rested him on the bed.  Sam sighed deeply in relief and pride as Dean landed gently beside him.  "That was a little harder," he said.  "You're a big guy."

Dean arched an eyebrow.  "I'm guessing you mean in the way that I'm bigger than that book you moved so effortlessly."  He rolled onto his side and stroked his hand over Sam's chest.

"And well-muscled," Sam said, turning to kiss him.  "Was that weird?  I mean, the sensation of being floated?"

"Probably one of the weirder things I've ever felt, Sam."  Dean chuckled.  "It's nothing like being thrown into a wall, and yet, it's a slow-motion of a similar feeling."

"Unpleasant?" Sam asked worriedly.  "I think it could be handy sometimes, but not if you don't like it."

Dean shook his head, fingers playing lightly over Sam's skin.  "Not unpleasant, but something I'd have to get used to."

Sam arched into Dean's wandering fingers and then kissed him again.  "Takes a lot more effort to move something carefully then to throw it around.  I could probably throw you through the wall pretty easy, but making sure I move you without hurting you is hard."

"Which means more concentration and you far less awareness of your surroundings and safety," Dean commented blandly.  "Not sure I like that thought, Sam."

"Well, when I'm trying to move something safely, yes," Sam said.  "When I want to throw an ugly through a wall, not to worry."  
   
Dean grinned.  "I think it'll be handy in a fight, but don't try and use it for me... just against the monsters."

Sam leaned down to suck on Dean's right nipple, humming softly.  "And what about on other things?" he asked, letting his mind tug at the head of Dean's cock again. 

"Yeah," Dean moaned, head tipping back and body arching into the phantom touch.  "Yeah, that works too."

Sam chuckled and continued the phantom touches, even as he pleasured Dean's torso with his mouth.  He found it hard to concentrate sometimes, as he got distracted by a smooth piece of soft skin or the bumps of his collarbone.  "This is good practice," he muttered into the planes of Dean's abs. 

Dean choked on a laugh.  "Glad I can help you."

"Well, if I can use my powers correctly when so distracted," Sam said, licking a stripe up Dean's stomach, "then I can use them anytime."  His invisible hands stroked and tugged on Dean's balls.  
Spreading his legs, Dean lifted his head to stare at Sam.  "You can practice on me any time you want, Sammy."

"Promises, promises," Sam purred and took Dean in his mouth, forgetting his powers for the moment.

Dean slid his fingers into Sam's hair, gripping his head and arching against him.  "Fuck Sam.  Love the way you suck me."

Sam imagined pressing three fingers inside Dean as he sucked him.  He slurped at the juicy head, even as he pictured them deep inside, rubbing over and over Dean's prostate.  Moaning, he thought of them pushing harder, causing almost insane pleasure.  
   
Crying out, Dean's body bowed under Sam's assault.  He could tell that Sam wasn't actually touching him with his fingers, but the sensation of Sam's fingers pressing into him was all too real.  Dean writhed on the bed, whimpering at the feel of Sam touching him in so many places all at once.

Sam pulled off with a soft pop and regarded Dean's flushed face.  "Too much?" he asked, soothing him with soft strokes to the base of his cock and thighs.

"No, fuck no... jesus, Sam."  Dean panted harshly, shaking from the sensations.

Sam hummed happily as he sucked Dean back down and went back to work pleasuring him.  He imagined the phantom fingers swelling in size to match his cock, until it should feel to Dean like he had all of Sam inside him, deep and pulsing.

The triplicate sensations were too much for Dean and, he flooded Sam's mouth with his come.  "Oh holy fuck, Sam."

Sam choked and then swallowed desperately, unused to the experienced Dean coming so fast.  He finally had to let go and let the last spurts hit him in the face.  "Whoa.  So, that was good then?" he asked in a throaty voice.

"Give the boy a prize," Dean panted out between attempts to catch his breath.  He lay sprawled, boneless, in their bed while his body continued to twitch with aftershocks of the most amazing orgasm he'd ever had.

Sam heaved himself to a sitting position and surveyed Dean's relaxed form with deep satisfaction.  "Fuck, you're so hot," he breathed and traced over twitching muscles.

Dean grinned, wagged his eyebrows.  "You know it, Sammy."  He winked at Sam, but reached up for him and tugged him down into a heated kiss that (hopefully) told Sam how amazing he was and how much Dean appreciated the mind-blowing orgasm he'd just received.

Sam sucked on Dean's tongue and then parted with a little gasp of air.  "So, what do I get?" he teased, dimples flashing.  
"Everything and anything you want, Sammy."  Dean smiled, but his gaze was deadly serious.  Sam could always have anything from him.

"Jesus," Sam said and ran a hand over Dean's flank lovingly.  "I never know what I want first."

Dean smirked.  "It's a hard choice, I know, with so many sexy options before you."

Sam smacked Dean's ass with a solid whack and said, "Smug bastard."  He leaned forward to kiss him again.

Returning the kiss, Dean tangled his arms and legs around Sam's body for a few moments before pulling back with a smile.  "Made a decision yet?" he asked, teasingly.

"Think your ass is up for a real pounding?" Sam asked.  He pressed against Dean's prostate again with phantom fingers.  
Dean moaned, tipped his head back and pushed against the ghostly touches.  "Yeah, please, Sammy.  Want to really feel _you_."

"That is me," Sam said.  "That's my mind's fingers.  Guess you were right about my having a big brain."  He nibbled down Dean's exposed neck and sucked at his adam's apple.  
   
"I want your dick, Sam.  I want to feel your cock inside me."  Dean tilted his head even further back for Sam to nibble on him.

Sam attacked the semi-permanent bruise he kept on Dean's neck and sucked it nice, big and fresh.  "Your wish," he mumbled and lifted up to start pushing Dean to roll over.

Dean moaned when Sam deepened the mark, rolling to the side only when he absolutely had to.  Settling himself on his stomach, Dean spread his thighs so Sam could slot between them.  He grabbed the pillow closest to his head and wrapped his arms around it with a sigh.

Sam slipped in behind Dean and surveyed the newly revealed territory before him.  Shutting his eyes, he pictured hands massaging and stroking Dean's back, tracing the line of his backbone and caressing the curves of his ass.

"Feels so good, Sam," Dean breathed, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of Sam's phantom hands on his back.

Sam added his real hands to part Dean's cheeks and then leaned down to press a kiss at his tailbone.  "Want my tongue inside you?"

Dean keened.  "Yeah, love it when you do that to me, Sammy."

Sam pressed in close to Dean and inhaled his musk, mixed with the scent of his come.  He nipped at each cheeks, before parting them wide and sneaking his tongue just between the warm crevice.

Rocking back into Sam, Dean shuddered out a breath and spread his thighs even wider.

"Never wanted anyone to way I want you," Sam whispered and licked warm, wet stripes over and over Dean's hole.  He loved the flavor, an idea that would have made him gag before he tried it with Dean.  His phantom fingers faltered a little as he lost himself in the act of rimming Dean within an inch of his life.

Dean gripped the pillow hard, rocking his body toward Sam's.  "Just touch me with your real hands, Sam.  Please... just need you."

"Am touching you with my real hands, De," Sam said.  "My real tongue, too."  He pressed Dean even wider open and wiggled his tongue directly over his hole.  "Flex that little hole for me."

Dean did what Sam wanted, bearing down to let him inside.  "No ghost touches.  Just you."

"It's all me," Sam said, even as he allowed his mind to relax.  His tongue wiggled inside the little hole, slicking the opening and easing the way.  Unconsciously, he massaged the spread cheeks with his hands.  
   
Moaning, Dean rocked his body into Sam.  Without the phantom touches, Dean could really concentrate on the feel of Sam's hands touching him.  He loved the way that Sam caressed his skin, kneading him and spreading him wide, and didn't want anything to take away from that.

Sam shut his eyes and pressed deeper, stretching his tongue to reach previously unknown depths.  He set up a rapid in and out stabbing, finally pulling out with a last lick of the entire area.  "Want you so bad, De," he said, reaching down to cup his own erection.

"Fuck me, Sam.  Please... don't wait, need you now."  Dean keened his pleasure, whimpered his need for Sam.

Sam swallowed hard, but then scooted up and rubbed his cock between Dean's cheeks.  Taking him at his word, he guided himself to the loosened hole and began to push inside.  "Fuck, so tight."

"YeahSammygodyes." Dean thrust himself back on Sam, rocking their bodies together with a grunt.

"Dean.  Holy fuck," Sam gasped and held tight to his hips.  "You feel so good."  He thrust, slow and easy, in and out, of the extra-tight and somewhat dry passage.  

Dean moaned, rocking back and forth on Sam's cock, head plastered to the pillow that he gripped tight in his arms.  "Fucking   
love the way you feel inside me, Sam."

"Gonna get hard again for me, De?" Sam asked.  "Come again?"  He thrust harder, finding his stride and really working Dean's body.

"Fuck yeah," Dean groaned, rocking his hips on the bed in time with Sam's thrusts inside his body.

Their joinings always transcended the mere physical pleasure into something Sam found near spiritual.  The way their bodies moved together in perfect harmony.  Dean's response to every touch, and how much Sam enjoyed those responses, almost more than his own.  He leaned down to rest his forehead against Dean's head.  "Mine," he said as he spilled and brought Dean to a second climax with him.

"Mine," Dean echoed.  He knew Sam would understand what he meant and lifted his head into the touch of Sam's forehead resting against him, even as they both shuddered through climax.

"Together," Sam breathed, hips slowing down to a lazy thrusting through the end of his orgasm, before stilling. "We've been good almost since the beginning."

Dean nodded.  "Just took us a bit to get started."  He yawned huge, jaw cracking with it before he settled down next to Sam, letting him slide out.

Sam tucked Dean close and kissed his forehead softly. "Tomorrow, we'll go look at your old home, De. And then, you'll have shown me the old homestead, and I'll really feel like one of the family."

"You're already one of the family, but I'm glad that'll help." Dean snuggled close into Sam's side, relaxing against him more comfortably.

Sam stroked Dean's side peacefully and said, "I was thinking of asking Jess to marry me... now, I wish I could ask you."

Dean grinned and nuzzled under Sam's chin. "It's just us, and that's all that matters."

Sam chuckled and nodded. "That's all that matters," he agreed.   
~~~~~~~~~~

Sam climbed out of the Impala and stared at the house, blinking slowly. "That's the one from my dreams," he said softly. "There's the tree I kept seeing." He glanced at Dean.

"It is, Sam?" Dean asked, climbing out of the Impala and standing next to the door. He rested his arms on the roof of the car and stared at the little white house that was so much smaller than he remembered.

Sam turned toward Dean and then stepped around the car to press into him. "You all right?"

"Yeah. I've just not been home since the day that Dad, Sammy and I left." Dean leaned into Sam, arms wrapping around him for support.

Sam rested his chin on Dean's crown and held him tightly. "You're shaking, De. Can you do this all right?"

Dean nodded as best he could. "I can; I have to."

"A woman, named Jenny Wilson, and her two children, Bess and Steven, live here now. I think using an upfront manner is best, since they know something bad is happening here. None of them has been hurt yet... but the thing in there is strong."

"You lead the charge on this one, Sam. People believe you, trust you," Dean said.

Sam kissed Dean's crown and released him, turning to head for the front door and knowing Dean would follow after. He knocked politely and smiled softly at the nervous, hollow-eyed woman who answered. "Hello, ma'am, my name is Sam, and this is Dean. We know this sounds weird, but we know you've been bothered by something evil in this house. We want to help you."

Jenny Wilson stared at them, mouth slightly open, and then stepped backward. "How- how did you know?" she whispered. 

Dean smiled at Jenny, trying for his most harmless look. "Sam here can sense things, and we’ve helped lots of people with problems like yours. May we come in?"

Jenny nodded and glanced back at her children, both kept in sight in a nearby crib. "Please. This house is all I've got. It's been terrible for months now. We haven’t been able to sleep easy... but I have nowhere to go."

"We'll help you, ma'am." Dean stepped inside, aware of Sam following, and shut the door on the rest of the world. “Can you tell us what's been happening?”

"I don't rightly know. Things move by themselves. There are strange noises at all hours. A plumber who came to work on the sink... he lost part of his hand when the garbage disposal turned on without warning." Jenny shivered and sank into a sofa. "I don't dare to leave the children alone. My littlest nearly died when the fridge shut on him."

"Sounds like a poltergeist," Dean said.

Sam nodded and said, "That's what I thought from what I saw in my visions, too. Ma'am, you and your children need to leave for a few hours. We have a friend, named Missouri, who can look after you. We can take care of your problem."

Flipping open his phone, Dean waited for her assent. "Missouri is a good woman, Mrs. Wilson."

Sam put a hand on Jenny's shoulder and squeezed gently, letting his strength and goodwill spill into her. "We know how to handle these kinds of things, ma'am."

Jenny looked between Dean and Sam and then back at her babies. For a moment, she wavered, but then nodded. "I'm at the end of my rope," she whispered. "I want to be safe again."

"We'll make you safe again," Dean said, speed-dialing Missouri and turning slightly to keep the conversation low. "Missouri... we need you at the old house. We need you to take Mrs. Wilson and her kids away, so Sam and I can get rid of the poltergeist here."

Missouri nodded on her end of the phone. "Be there shortly, Dean. Careful until I get there."

Sam lifted his head toward the top of the house and stepped back to whisper to Dean. "It knows we're here. I think it can sense me, De."

"There's nothing we can do about that now, Sam." Dean leaned closer to Sam, turning to look at him with slightly worried eyes.

"Let's get them packed and outdoors," Sam said. He stepped back toward Jenny. "Our friend is happy to watch after you. Let's get you packed and ready to go. We'll help you."

Dean stepped back, letting Sam take care of Jenny. "What would you like my help with?"

Jenny glanced at her children. "I need to pack some clothes for them." She looked upstairs and shuddered. "There are some in their room at the top of the stairs."

Sam looked at the stairs. "You help Mrs. Wilson with her children. I'll get them some stuff."

"Of course. Let's get them ready. Missouri can take you and the kids out for pizza and some games. Take your mind off of everything." Dean crossed over to the closet and went looking or some jackets to bundle the kids in.

Sam headed slowly up the stairs, senses attuned to what awaited up there. As he reached the children's room, the door slammed shut and the knob flew off and smashed into the wall next to him. "Dean, hurry up and get them out!"

Dean grabbed their jackets and tossed one to Mrs. Wilson.  "Get the baby dressed and let's get them out, ma'am.  The spirit aren't going to be still much longer."  He picked up the older child, tugged the jacket on the little girl and lifted her easily in his arms before ushering everyone out the front door.  

Sam held out his hand toward the force holding the door shut and pushed outward.  There was a moment of straining, then the door flew open with a crash, hanging off one hinge.  With a little sigh, Sam stepped into the room, hand still in front of him.  He looked around and then grabbed some clothes out of the bureau, putting them into the bag Jenny had pointed out in the living room.  Heading back for the living, he cried out as something pushed him from behind and sent him headfirst down the stairs. 

Barely having a moment for a breath, Dean turned just as Sam went headlong down the flight of stairs.  "Sammy!" he yelled, sprinting back into the house and doing his best to brace Sam's fall.  

Sam smacked into Dean and cursed as they both crashed the floor, banging his side painfully into the bannister as they did.  "You all right?" he wheezed, stumbling to his feet and offering a hand to Dean.

"Yeah, got her out," Dean said, standing and running his hands lightly over Sam's body.  "You okay?  Not too banged up?"  He ignored his own aches and pains, glad that he had them, if it meant preventing any injuries to his Sammy.

Sam smiled and nodded.  "You broke my fall nicely.  Thanks for that.  This thing is not happy to have us here."  He glanced back up the stairs.  "The charms might not completely drive it out."

Dean frowned, walking to the front door and finding it locked tight.  "What do you think it's going to take, Sam?  Can you do this?"

Sam walked to the door and stared at it, raising his hand without even thinking about the motion.  "Stand back," he said, even as the door began to strain under the dual stresses of his and the poltergeist's powers.  

"Sam, don't spend your energy on the door.  I want you safe... to be able to fight this off the way we need to," Dean said, coming up behind Sam and resting his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Jenny and her family are out there, not knowing what's going on and scared," Sam said.  "You need to get them on their way to Missouri, away from the house."

"Missouri will be here."  Dean glowered at Sam and then shrugged.  "Okay, okay... open the door if you can."  

Sam glanced at Dean and then relaxed his hand and mind.  "All right, I'll focus on the thing then."  He looked around the house.  "Do you have the stuff for the charms?"

"Yeah, it's in my pockets."  Dean rifled through his pockets and pulled out the items needed for the charms.

Sam nodded and walked toward the table.  “Empty the stuff here.  Glad we thought this might be a poltergeist and came armed."

Dean dumped everything on the table and then turned to Sam, grabbing him by the back of the neck and kissing him hard.  He used to go into fights like this without a thought, but with Sam it made things different.  Dean felt a lot more afraid than he ever used to be.  "Love you," he said, backing up with a smile before he dropped his gaze to the items on the table.

Startled, Sam reached back out for Dean and gathered him in for another, softer kiss, aware all the time of the poltergeist around them.  "Love you, too, De.  We'll stick together for this.  Put all the herbs into the four bags.  One for each corner of the house."  He began stuffing the bags and then lifted his head, looking around the room.  "It's in here."

Working furiously, Dean stuffed the herbs into the bags.  He glanced up and around the room when Sam said it was close, but he couldn't see or feel a thing.  Head down again, Dean worked as fast as he could.

Sam finished his bags and said, "Ready when you are.  Want to head for the south corner first?"

"Your call, man... you tell me what to do, and I'll do it, Sammy."  Dean smiled, the irony not lost on him.

Sam nodded and said, "South corner then.  Let's go."  He started for the living room corner and then glanced back at the sound of drawers opening behind them.  "Get down!" he yelled, even as he held up his hand and froze the advance of five carving knives that sliced through the air toward them.

Dean dropped at Sam's command, crawling across the floor as though he were going under razor wire fencing.  

Sam strained for a second and then threw the knives aside, wincing as they made five huge holes in the wall and stuck there.  He headed for the south corner again, signaling an all clear to Dean.  "This is weird.  I can feel it everywhere, especially when our powers are in conflict."

"Don't like the sound of powers in conflict, Sam."  Dean surged to his feet, running full out to the south corner of the house where he skidded to a halt.  "What next?"

"We need to put a hole in the wall and then stuff the charm inside," Sam said. He dodged a flying piece of furniture. "Now, Dean."

Dean grinned. That was something he could do. Grabbing a sturdy floor lamp, Dean swung hard and pounded a hole into the plaster wall. "There ya go, Sammy."

Sam tossed the first bag inside and nodded in cold satisfaction. "Up the stairs and to the next corner," he said and ran for it.

Following right behind Sam, Dean took the stairs two at a time. He ran with Sam into the far corner bedroom with a grim smile. "This back wall?" he asked, ready to find a way to pound another hole in the wall.

Sam nodded and opened his mouth to say something, when a thin, soft object wrapped around his neck and yanked him off his feet, dragging him toward the wall. He grappled for it and found himself being strangled by a lamp cord, looped twice around his neck and tightening.

Dean knew that Sam needed help and that they had to get the charms in the walls. He hesitated only slightly before grabbing a candlestick and smashing it right through the plaster, dropping in one of the charms. Dropping the stick, he turned to help Sam.

Sam tried to focus his mind, but the lack of air made his guts twist with panic, so he clawed at the cord instead of attacking it effectively. Raising his eyes to Dean, he thought to him, "Help!"

Grabbing the knife he kept strapped to his leg, Dean hacked at the telephone cord to loosen it. After a few sharp cuts, the cord fell away from Sam’s throat.

Sam gasped for air and grabbed Dean with one arm, holding him tight as he drew in much needed oxygen. "Fuck. Couldn't think. Couldn't do anything."

"I gotcha, Sammy. Not gonna let anything hurt you." Dean kissed him briefly. "Where to next? I got that hole covered."

"Other side of this floor," Sam said and struggled to his feet. "Shit. I hate choking."

Dean patted him on the shoulder. "Yeah, and I'm thinking this thing's going to hit us with whatever is the hardest for us."

"Yeah, it's pretty pissed," Sam said. "I hate being attacked by stuff I can't even see." He headed for the next room, hand in the air and searching with his mind for any trace of the poltergeist.

"You know I'll follow where you lead... just tell me where to break into the wall." Dean grinned, grabbed the candlestick again and swung it back and forth in anticipation.

Sam eased open the next door, surprised by how easily it opened, until half of the room's furniture flew across the room at him. He smashed half of it with his mind, but took a drawer to the stomach, before redirecting the rest out a window.

Dean ducked when he saw flying furniture. "You okay, man?" he called out, dropping to the floor and crawling across it toward the far corner.

"Ouch," Sam wheezed and said, "You think you can give me a full body rub tonight, De?"

"Anything you want, Sam, soon as we get out of here." Dean grinned over his shoulder at Sam before he finished crawling across the floor and then pounded a hole in the wall near the baseboard. He tossed another charm in, before rolling to his feet.

The house shook and rumbled, a few loose boards falling to the floor with a clatter.  "Something else is happening," Sam said.  He headed for the downstairs again.  "One last bag, De!"

Dean followed Sam back down the stairs, skipping a few here and there and then jumping the last three when the staircase nearly gave out beneath him. "Hurry up, Sam."

Sam leaped off the side as the stairs collapsed beneath him.  "Jesus, this thing in playing to win."  He rushed for the last wall and then scrambled to a stop and ducked, just as a force blew over him, strong enough to smash him through the living room windows.

Dean stayed low to the ground, watching Sam fight the invisible forces.  He crawled across the floor to the final wall, reaching back with his arm to punch the last hole. Something unseen gripped his arm, and he was flipped onto his back and pinned to the ground.

Sam yelled as the malevolent force pinned Dean and struggled to free him.  Sweat broke out along his forehead as he pushed at the poltergeist, trying to make it give up its precious prize.  He fought across the room as he went, grabbing the last bag and heading for the wall.  Putting his foot hard through the plaster, he was suddenly grabbed and yanked into the air.  He barely managed to throw the bag inside, before he was slammed hard against the opposite wall.

When the poltergeist focused on Sam, Dean scrambled to his feet and stared helplessly at his pinned lover. "What can I do?" he cried, scrambling for Sam’s side.

"It should be working," Sam yelled.  "I don't-" And then he looked up, eyes wide, as the sound of a door crashing open echoed from upstairs.  "There's something else in here!"

The poltergeist dropped Sam from the wall like a sack of potatoes, and he stumbled across the room toward Dean.  A flickering light traversed the upstairs hall and began to descend, as if the staircase were not collapsed.  Sam reached Dean just as the form hit the bottom floor and started toward them.  He wrapped his arms around Dean and said, "We freed her... with the charms... and she's pissed, but not at us.  At the evil."

Dean nodded, sliding both of his arms around Sam's body and holding him close.  He stared at the shining fiery light that emanated from the new figure.  It distorted the form, and Dean tried to peer through the flames to see the face of the woman they'd freed.  

Sam shut his eyes and pressed his nose into Dean's hair.  "It's... mom?  Your mom."   
   
The fiery shroud covering the spirit's face lifted and revealed the smiling countenance of Mary Winchester, as she gazed at Dean and Sam.  "Dean," she said softly.  "Sam."

"Mom," Dean breathed, voice trailing off at the end.  He was too choked up to do anything but stare at the face that he barely remembered until that moment.  "Mom, is that really you?"

Sam stared at Mary Winchester and felt her love for both Dean and... him?  He held Dean tighter as the poltergeist began to gather its power again, ready to strike out at all three of them.  
   
"Dean," she said again and reached out to put a hand on his cheek.  "My baby boy."

Dean leaned his head into her ghostly touch, sighing as he felt her love for him surrounding him completely.  "I miss you, Mom.  Every day," he said, a hitch in his voice.

"Love you, too, baby," she said and then smiled at Sam.  She opened her mouth to address him, when the poltergeist roared around them. 

Sam pushed out at the force, resisting, and felt Mary Winchester's ghost do the same. 

"You will leave my home!" she cried and looked up at the ceiling, form expanding outward in a brilliant blaze of light.  

Shielding his eyes, Dean held tight to Sam while his mother wielded an all her power to force the poltergeist out for good.  He shook when it was all over, the calm stillness of the room an eerie feeling after so much violence and power.

Sam wrapped Dean in his arms and tried to project his love for him the same way Mary had projected hers.  He knew Dean must be shaken, the same way he felt shaken.  More, since that had been the ghost of his mother, who proved beyond any remaining doubt to Sam that not everything that was supernatural was evil.  "Dean... are you all right?"

"I'm okay, Sam.  Are you?"  Dean tightened his grip on Sam, breathing harshly through his mouth while he tried to take in everything that had happened in those last few moments.

"She was beautiful, De... your mom.  So loving."  Sam kissed his forehead and crown softly.  "I understand now why your dad still fights in her memory."

Dean sighed, closing his eyes.  "I wish I had more of her in my memories, Sam."

Sam nodded and tugged Dean closer.  "I wish I remembered any of my family," he admitted.

"I wish you did, too, Sammy."  Dean kissed Sam gently before the house made a sound like a sigh of relief, and the doors all flew open.  "Looks like everything really is gone."

Jenny peeked in nervously, Missouri close behind her.  "Are you all right?  Is everything... all right?"  
   
Sam smiled and stepped away from Dean, though he took hold of his right hand to tug him after.  "Yes, ma'am.  I'm afraid there's a bit of damage, but the poltergeist is gone."

Dean laughed at the irony.  "A bit of damage is an understatement.  We had to punch a few holes in the walls to get the charms to work. And the poltergeist made a Hell of a mess trying to stop us."  He turned to Missouri.  "Do you know anyone who can do the repairs?"

Jenny just smiled at Dean.  "If the house is safe again, I don't care what you had to do!"

Missouri chuckled.  "I do, boy.  I'll have someone come handle the repairs at no charge.  He's a hunter like you boys, but a carpenter by trade."  

  Dean smiled back at her, relaxing slightly against Sam.  "Mom was here in the house, too, Missouri.  She's the one that finally sent the poltergeist running."  "Is that a fact, Dean?" Missouri asked, blinking slowly and smiling.  "Did she say anything to you, Sam?"

Sam stared at Missouri and blocked her from reading his mind, which was churning at the way she asked.  "No, she didn't," he said.  "But there was a feeling about her... love... for both of us."

Nodding, Missouri smiled.  "Mary was a smart woman. I think you boys ought to get some rest.  I know that was a chore for Sam."   Dean nodded wearily, squeezing Sam's hand.

Sam ducked his head and smiled his thanks at the older woman.  With Dean's hand still in his, he headed for the door, pausing at the threshold.  "Want to take a last look?"

Dean turned around and looked back inside the house before shaking his head.  "No, you're my home now, Sammy."

Sam smiled and paused at the door to kiss Dean, tongue twining around Dean's. He held him tightly and said, "You're my home, too."  
~~~~~~~~~~

Sam stared at the police report he'd finally managed to hack from the computer records of the police who took little Sammy Winchester away from his father and brother on a fateful day so many years ago. He read through the report with a serious expression. "I think I've finally found the leading edge of the trail of your brother."

Dean lifted his head with a sharp look. "Really?" He pushed up from the bed and crossed the room to Sam's side. He braced one hand on the back of Sam's chair and laid his other palm on the table to stare at what Sam was reading.

"It's the report of a police officer about the pursuit of a man using a false name, and the discovery that he was with two children. He got away with one, but they 'rescued' the other. A little boy who kept screaming for a De."

Catching his breath, Dean closed his eyes. He couldn't control the hope welling in him and whimpered as he remembered the sound of little Sammy's voice calling for him over and over.

Sam looked up and then pulled Dean to him for a hug. "Shh, Dean. It's all right." He rubbed his back with both hands.

Dean sobbed quietly. "I left him behind. What if he hates me for not coming back for him?" He trembled, the thought of Sammy hating him a knife to the heart.

Sam stood and tucked Dean into his arms, resting his chin in Dean's hair. "De, you were both so little. It was John who was responsible for losing Sammy, not you." He pressed kisses into the soft strands of his crown. "Don't cry."

"But Sammy called for me.  He expected me to come for him, and I just ran."  Dean buried his nose in Sam's throat.  "I should have gone back to him to be with him.  We could have been together instead of separated." 

 "You thought John had him," Sam soothed.  "You never would have kept going if you knew John had dropped him."  He rocked Dean back and forth in his arms, still amazed by how much Dean still loved Sammy and blamed himself for his loss.  "We'll find him."

Dean shuddered.  "What if he hates me, Sam?  I don't think I could bear to find him only to have him hate me."

Sam tilted up Dean's chin and kissed him, slow and sweet.  "When he sees how much you love him still, how much you blame yourself for what happened... how can he hate you?"  He nuzzled Dean's cheek.  "I'm not saying it'll be an easy thing, but you want to know, don't you?"

"I do," Dean said, leaning into Sam.  He did want to know, did want his little brother back, but the thought of Sammy holding their separation against him was a palpable pain.

"The documents give the name of the social worker who took Sammy's case.  I'll try to hack into the records of Social Services next, see if I can find hers.  Chances are, though, that we'll need access to her paper records."  Sam rested his forehead on Dean's and shut his eyes.

"Anything, Sam.  I'll break in anywhere that I have to to find this stuff out."  Dean held Sam tight, breathing heavily at the thought that they might be closing in on his Sammy after all this time.

"I know, De," Sam said.  "It's one of the things I love about you.  Your heart is so big."  He rubbed Dean's back and then cupped his ass to pull him in for a deep kiss.  "I hope he likes me, too."

Dean moaned into Sam's kiss, losing himself in the steadying touch.  When he finally pulled back, Dean smiled at Sam and then breathed easier.  "Of course he's going to love you."

"You'll have two Sammys," Sam said with a fond smile.  He nuzzled at Dean's cheek and then pulled back.  "Want me to get cracking on Social Services?"

"Yeah, if you can get in there without being noticed."  Dean loved teasing Sam, though he did worry that Sam might get caught, given some of his computer hacking.

"Well, Social Services doesn't have a lot of money for advanced security... but we'll see."  Sam sat back down and began to type.  "Find any possible hunts?"

Dean grimaced slightly, scratching at the back of his neck and shaking his head.  "To be honest, I haven't been looking to hard.  Was thinking that we could maybe take a week off or something.  Go somewhere just for fun."

Curious, Sam stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Dean.  "I'm up for that.  What did you have in mind?"  He pulled Dean close again to nuzzle at his belly through the layers of shirt.

Chuckling, Dean tangled his hands in Sam's hair.  "Honestly?  I haven't a clue.  Dad and I never stopped or took down time, but I want to spend some time with you that does not focus on what demon to hunt or what ghost to lay to rest."

"Well, there are various kinds of breaks we could take.  For example, we could just find a decent motel to shack up in for a week and do nothing but make out, eat, have sex and repeat."  Sam pulled Dean into his lap and cradled him.  "Or we could go somewhere specific to see or do something, with sex on the side."

"What do you want to do?"  Dean asked, straddling Sam's lap and leaning slightly over him.

Sam laughed and kissed Dean's cheeks and nose.  "My selfless Dean," he said.  "You always ask me first.  I have not even had time to consider...  How about somewhere you've always wanted to see?"

Dean chuckled.  "I've seen most of the country, Sam.  You're the one who never traveled much.  I do know that I want to relax, maybe somewhere with a beach, a place we can have for our own."

"A secluded beach," Sam mused.  "You don't want much."  He grinned teasingly and stroked Dean's sides.  "I'll do some research after I look into the Social Services stuff."  He slid a hand under Dean's shirt and pinched his side.

"Only if you want that, too.  I want you to enjoy our time off."  Dean wriggled on Sam's lap, the pinch more ticklish than painful.

"The very thought of time off with you makes me hard," Sam said with a grin.  "And your plan sounds perfect.  It just may take a bit to find a good spot."

Dean nodded, rocking his hips on Sam's lap before he slipped off.  "Okay, I'm gonna let you do some research on both of those topics while I round up dinner.  Sound like a plan?"  

Sam stared longingly at Dean and then sighed and nodded.  "All right.  I'll be good."  He eyed the bulge at Dean's crotch.  "I just want to suck you off..."

"Fuck," Dean said, rubbing a hand over his crotch.  "No fair playing that way, Sammy.  You know I can't resist when you say you want something."

Sam smiled and licked his lips.  "Hadn't noticed," he said, trying for innocent.  "Won't take me long.  You don't have a lot of stamina when I suck you."

Dean huffed in pretend offense, but Sam was right. "You really wanna do this before you research?" he asked.

"I want to do it with you standing up," Sam said, crooking a finger to get him to come closer.  "Want to sit in this chair and suck you off, get you to make a mess down my throat."

"Jesus," Dean said, reversing his motion and crossing back toward Sam.  He stopped just barely inside Sam's reach, so he'd have to work for it.

"You're not that big," Sam teased, gripped Dean's beltloops and pulled him closer.  He pressed his face deep into the crotch of Dean's jeans and inhaled.  "Fucking hot."

Dean grunted, rocking his hips forward.  "You're the hot one, Sammy.  God, the way you touch me... the things you do."  He slid his hands over Sam's head, keeping him in place.

Sam rubbed his cheek against Dean and then mouthed at him through the denim.  "Gonna take your cock out for me, De?  Gonna let me suck you down?"

"Fuck yeah," Dean said, sliding his hands between his cock and Sam's mouth so that he could tear open the button and shimmy the jeans down his hips.  

Sam leaned back a little as Dean's cock bobbed out, already reaching for his stomach.  He licked a line up the large vein on the underside toward the tip.  He nibbled all the way down again and nuzzled his balls.  "Mmm."

Dean fisted his hands and then reached up and clasped them together behind his head.  It was going to be one hell of a challenge to keep himself upright for Sam, but Dean was going to give it everything he had.  "God, love you, Sammy."

Sam gripped Dean's cock and licked at the head in long, lazy strokes.  He kept Dean steady by holding his hip with the other hand.  After a few more licks, he sucked Dean into his mouth and shut his eyes to enjoy the flavor and feel.

Moaning, Dean let Sam lead that way, working hard to not thrust into Sam's throat with every bob of his head.  "God, you're killing me."

Sam huffed a little laugh around Dean and then tugged at his hip to let him know thrusting was permissible.  

Dean pulled his hips back and then thrust forward, groaning enthusiastically.  He loved the way Sam could take him in his mouth, suck him down his throat.  "Fuck," he whimpered.

Sam growled and sucked harder, loving Dean's thrusts.  He freed both hands to wander all over the rest of Dean's body, twisting and pulling at his nipples, tugging his balls and playing over the rim of his hole.

Dean thrust harder than he meant to into Sam's throat.  He pulled back just as sharply, apologies falling from his lips, while he stroked his fingers through Sam's hair.  "God, love you, Sam."

Sam gagged ever so slightly at the harsh thrust and pulled off to shoot Dean a mock reproachful look.  At Dean's words, he sucked him right back in and began to bob up and down in an excited fashion.

"You've got to hold me, Sammy.  Can't control myself when you're sucking me," Dean moaned, hands tangling in Sam's hair while he did his best to keep from thrusting too hard and fast into Sam's mouth again.

Holding Dean made things less fun, but Sam took his hips in hand again and guided him in and out a little less fervently.  Not that he didn't suck him into his throat and swallow when he could.

Dean moaned again, hands tugging lightly at Sam's hair.  He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, doing his best to hold on.

Sam loved when Dean forgot himself and tugged just a bit too hard at his hair.  He had done his job right then, made Dean incapable of doing anything except let himself be sucked.  Slipping a hand further around Dean, he angled his index finger down to press and then enter Dean's ass, just rolling around inside. 

Choking on his moan, Dean arched forward, pressing deep into Sam's throat.  "Holy fuck, Sam.  Gonna come... god, can't hold out."

Sam hummed happily at that pronouncement and slid back to suck as hard as possible on the head of Dean's cock, tongue fluttering on the bundle of nerves just below.  He slid his finger even further into Dean's tight channel, pressing around for the bundle of nerves inside.

That was all it took and Dean was jerking in Sam's grip, coming down his throat and moaning low.  He tugged on Sam's hair, fingers all tangled up in the longer strands.

Sam kept sucking and swallowing until Dean's cock went limp in his mouth.  Only then did he notice the pangs of pain from his head from where Dean yanked on his hair, but that was secondary to the pleased warmth that spread through him from being able to give Dean pleasure.  He kept the soft cock in his mouth, suckling and waiting for Dean to tell him it was too much.

Dean held out as long as he could before he murmured and pulled back to slide out of Sam's mouth.  He stroked one hand over Sam's head and stroked the fingers of his other hand down Sam's cheek.  "Love you," he breathed, before leaning down and kissing Sam deeply.

Sam pulled Dean down into the kiss and sucked eagerly at his tongue, wanting to mingle their flavors.  When he finally let Dean go, their lips made a soft sound on parting.  "Was that good for you?"

"Always, Sammy."  Dean kissed him again and then dropped to his knees with a smirk.  "Now the question is whether or not you want me to make it good for you now... or fucking amazing later."

Sam stared down at Dean and bopped him lightly on the head.  "You drop to your knees and then ask me that?"

Dean laughed, stroking his hands up and down Sam's thighs.  "Well, I can get you off now and then work on other stuff... or I can leave you here like this until I get back and then bury myself **in** you, once you've done your research for the night."

"Oh jeez," Sam groaned and pouted out his lower lip.  "Fine.  Later.  I can wait.  Maybe."

Chuckling, Dean rubbed his cheek on Sam's erection before surging back to his feet to nip and suck at his lips.  "Thought you might want to wait," he said, soothing the marks with his tongue.

Sam growled and then whined at Dean, before hissing, "I may have to jerk off now, though.  Fuck."  He licked his tongue against Dean's.

Dean tangled their tongues together, suckling on Sam's before he stepped back. "You do what you need to, Sammy, while I go grab us some dinner. But the longer it takes you to research, the longer until I fuck you."

"Are you saying that if I don't get all my research done, I don't get any of you?" Sam demanded with a little huff. "And you fuck me... hmm." 

"I'm saying that the longer it takes you, the longer you have to wait... that's all." Dean grinned, waggling his eyebrows and stroking up Sam's thighs again.

Sam snorted and said, "You're a jerk."

"You're the one stalling," Dean teased, leaning in to kiss Sam's lips before he stepped back and tucked himself into his underwear and jeans.

Sam waved Dean away and said, "We'll see if I'm even in the mood later. Not sure I'll want to bother." 

Dean narrowed his eyes, looking at how Sam's cock tented his jeans. "You're always in the mood, Sam," he said.

"Am not!" Sam said with a grin. "You're confusing me with you." He tipped Dean a wink and returned to his computer, trying to focus.

Running his hand over Sam's hair, Dean leaned down to kiss his crown and then stepped to grab up his keys and his wallet. "You want anything in particular for dinner?"

Sam considered for a moment and then said, “Gyros, if you can find a place to buy them. And some salad to go with them. And coke. No beer tonight."

Dean wrinkled his nose, tossing the keys from hand to hand. "Salad on top of more salad, huh? Why no beer?" 

"Gyros aren't salad," Sam said with a wrinkled nose. "They're lots of awesome salted meat in pita bread. And I just don’t feel like beer tonight. Now, go, slave, and fetch me food!"

Snorting, Dean laughed. "They are too salad," he teased, leaving the hotel room and closing the door with a thud.  
~~~~~~~

Sam leaned back on the king bed, armed with printouts of what he had found online from the casefiles of the Child's Services case worker who had taken Sammy.  There was something about the name that weirded him out a bit, something that rang a faint bell in the very back of his mind.  But for the moment, he ignored that in favor of reading Sam Doe's medical history upon his arrival into the system.  A healthy little boy, except for a few odd scars that troubled the doctors.  Sam looked over at Dean and wondered if he should share the documents with him or hold them back, as anything about his little, lost brother upset Dean.

Dean sat at the table in their room cleaning the guns.  He tried not to be too curious about what Sam might be finding, but had a hard time focusing on a task that normally soothed him.

Sam glanced up from his work and said, "We're going to have to go to the city where they put Sammy into the system to learn anything more.  I think it may take some serious digging in their records."  He paused and set the papers aside.  "Do you want to do that before we go on a break?"

"Yeah, I guess we should.  No sense having it hang over us now that you're so close."  Dean sighed, both wanting to find Sammy and slowly starting to dread what they might find.

Sam crawled off the bed and approached Dean, kneeling at his feet and resting his arms on Dean's legs.  "You won't be able to relax until we know more."  He leaned forward and laid his head on Dean's thighs with a little sigh.

Dean stroked his hand through Sam's hair.  "No, I really won't.  No matter what it is; we're so close to knowing that I think it's best if we just push through until we find him or you can't find anything else."

Sam arched into the tender touches.  "We should hold off on hunting until we do find out.  You'll be no good for it, and I won't be much better."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, massaging harder at Sam's scalp, knowing how much he loved having his head rubbed.  "It won't due us any good to get hurt or dead before finding him."

Sam nearly purred at the soft touch and pressed his head more against the careful fingers.  "If we do find him, maybe I should leave for awhile.  Give you a chance to get to know him better.  Spend time just with him."

Dean shook his head and tugged slightly on Sam's hair.  "No way.  You're a part of my family now, and I want us all to get to know each other."  He leaned down and kissed Sam's head.  "I couldn't bear it if you didn't get along."

Sam pursued Dean's mouth and kissed him gently.  "I think it's best for the two of you to spend some time together, without the added complication of my presence.  If you really want to be brothers again, or even friends, you shouldn't be distracted by anything else.  Especially me."

"But you're my partner, Sammy.  You're the other half of me, and I want him to know you, too."  Dean frowned a bit and chewed at his lower lip.  "We don't all have to hang out all of the time, but I want you to know each other."

"I'll get to know him, De," Sam promised, "after you and he are comfortable together.  That's a better time to introduce me, so Sammy hopefully doesn't feel threatened by my presence in your life.  He'll know he has a place with you already."

Dean scowled, shaking his head slightly.  "Let's not worry about it until we know he even wants to meet me, Sam.  No sense borrowing trouble."

Sam nodded and stroked Dean's thighs.  "You're probably right, De.  I just wanted to put that out there."  He squeezed once and then stood gracefully. 

"Thank you, Sam.  It means everything," Dean said, reaching to grab Sam's hand and keep him from moving away.  "How's the search going?"

"Well, the stuff I can get off the computer isn't really helpful.  I need information about his placements.  Hopefully, he found a family that adopted him permanently."  Sam ducked his head, knowing from his own experience how hard it was to find a permanent place.  "If he did, we should be able to find him pretty easily."

Dean smiled. "I love that you hope for the best for him even though you didn't have that great a time in the system yourself." He squeezed Sam's hand tight.

Sam nodded and returned the squeeze. "I'm sure your Sammy was a much better behaved boy. Someone that people loved and wanted to take care of... not like me."

"You're lovable, Sammy. I think the people you ended up with just didn't know how to love." Dean stood up and tugged Sam into his arms. 

Sam wrapped Dean tight and pressed his face into Dean's neck. "I can't remember my family at all," he whispered. "You talk so much about your brother, and I want to remember something, anything about my family. But there's nothing... a brick wall with a screaming child on the other side."

"Once we find my Sammy, let's look for your family." Dean wrapped his arms tight around Sam and pulled him in close and tight.

Sam shook his head and kissed Dean's neck. "No, De. I don't have any pleasant memories of them or reason to want to find them. They dumped me and never looked back."

Dean trembled, holding Sam tight. Those were the exact words he was afraid his Sammy was going to say to him.

Sam realized his mistake and turned to press kisses to Dean's cheeks and forehead. "No, Dean. Don't think that way. You know you loved your Sammy, and he loved you."

"But does he remember that I loved him? Or does he only remember that he was left behind?" Dean sighed and gripped Sam tight.

Sam rubbed Dean's back in soothing circles and said, "You must be the best big brother in the world, Dean."

Dean snorted. "I never had the chance to really know, Sam."

"You must be to still feel this guilty, to still love your baby brother this much," Sam said. "Most people would have moved on more."

"I couldn't move on. He's my baby brother and was my responsibility. I failed him." Dean knew this was old hat for their conversations, but the closer they got to finding Sammy, the more afraid he became.

"Exactly. Best big brother ever." Sam kissed Dean's nose and then his eyelids.

Dean clung to Sam, lifting his head to kiss Sam's mouth. "Thank you. Love you so much, Sammy."

Sam kissed Dean and pulled him close, using his larger form to try and make him feel protected and loved. Dean was so good at standing on his own, but Sam knew how much family meant to him, how much he wanted to be surrounded by their love. He was the first piece of that, but he knew that Dean's Sammy was the second, perhaps more important piece. He vowed again to find him.

"Okay, enough mushy stuff." Dean pulled back and brushed an easy kiss on Sam's lips. "We going to make a reservation for a hotel or just going to pack up and head out?"

Sam laughed and shook his head at Dean. "Right, no chick flick." He rolled his eyes and pulled back. "Well, we have a few nights drive to the right town still. It'll take a bit to get what we want, so I'll make reservations there."

Dean nodded. "Move out first thing in the morning then?"

"Same old, same old," Sam confirmed with a smile.  "Except for the ultimate end."

"The ultimate end could change my world forever... all because of you," Dean said, smiling and tugging Sam in for a gentle, sweet kiss.  "I can never thank you enough."

Sam rubbed a thumb over Dean's right cheek and smiled into the kiss.  "Couldn't do anything else, De.  I'm not enough for your big old heart, you mushpot.  You need your little brother, too."

Dean shook his head.  "You're enough for the love I have to give to a lover, or a partner, Sam."  He kissed Sam gently.  "But yeah, Sammy left a hole in my family heart."

"Two hearts?  Like Doctor Who?"  Sam felt around on Dean's chest playfully.

Arching an eyebrow, Dean shook his head.  He’s heard of Doctor Who, of course, but had never watched it.  "Thank you.  Seriously.  You're going to change my life even more than you already have."

"I'm going to try," Sam promised.  He nipped Dean's nose and grinned.  "Shall we make your lover heart happy now?"  
   
"You already do, but yeah... I think we have plenty of time to make both of us happy now," Dean said, leaning in for a gentle kiss that quickly turned heated and full of promise.

Sam grinned into the kiss and rubbed himself against Dean.  "You know, I had my fair share of sex before you, but never the way I do now.  I can't get enough.  Sure you're not some sort of incubus?" 

Dean chuckled low.  "Would it bother you if I was?" he asked, teasing but understanding where Sam's question came from.  

"Not unless you planned to suck all the life from me," Sam said.  "And even then, I might not be too upset."  He nibbled on Dean's lower lip and tugged on it with a playful growl.

"Never, Sam.  Want you around as long as possible."  Dean pulled him even closer for a thorough kiss.  "What do you want?"  
"I do believe you promised me something earlier," Sam said with a little grin.  "Now, what was that again?"  
   
Dean chuckled.  "Gonna fuck you hard, Sam, if that's what you still want from me."

Sam tapped his chin in mock serious consideration.  "Not sure why you get to fuck me hard," he said, raising both eyebrows.  "Convince me."  His dimples appeared full force.

"Well, if you don't want it... then I suppose you can just go back to your research."  Dean shrugged as if he didn't care one way or the other, but knew that Sam could see how much he wanted him.

"Hey," Sam said softly, "take it easy there, De.  Don't get all snippy at me."

Dean dropped his shoulders, rolling them back and letting out a breath.  He hadn't meant to snap at Sam, but never took easily to that kind of teasing.  Until Sam, he'd never had anyone even remotely pretend they didn't want him... not once it had been established that there was mutual interest.  

Sam put his hands on Dean's neck and massaged the nape gently.  "What's wrong, huh?  I was only playing, De."  He kissed Dean's face softly as he spoke, trying to lavish him with affection to ease his mood.

"Not used to teasing."  Dean turned into Sam and wrapped him up tight.  "Sorry."

Sam held Dean to him and hummed softly in contentment.  "No need to apologize, De.  I'll remember not to tease you like that."

Dean sighed.  "You should be able to, Sam."  He dropped his head against Sam's, breathing out and holding him ever closer.

"I'd like you to feel comfortable with my teasing, De.  Especially since you're about the last person in the world who needs to be touchy about his skills in bed... or in the shower... on the hood of the car..."  Sam kissed Dean's nose.

Chuckling at that, Dean nodded and then kissed Sam again.  "It's not so much the skills, Sam, as being wanted."   

"Mmm, I never want to make you feel unwanted," Sam said.  "I'm pretty much insane about you in every way." 

"Glad to hear it as I feel the same about you," Dean said.  "But you know that."

"And you can even make fun of me, if you want," Sam said and reached up to grasp Dean's hands and pull them down, over his ass.  

Dean curled his hands on Sam's ass, kneading him firmly while he tugged him in against his body.  "Love you.  Want you so much, all the time," he said, rocking their hips together over and over.

Sam's eyes fluttered closed and his body responded to Dean's, quickening and sending desire threading through his blood.  "Yeah, Dean.  Please."

"Sammy," Dean breathed.  "Want you so much.  Want to be inside you, feel you all around me, clamping down and holding me inside you."

"All right, De," Sam murmured, spreading his legs so Dean slotted between them more easily.  "All right."

Dean sighed quietly, not liking the way Sam sounded as though he was giving in.  Pulling back, Dean really looked at Sam.  "Is that what _you_ want, Sam?"

Sam smiled and kissed Dean's forehead.  "I want whatever you want to give, De," he assured.  "And you seem to need this, too... have all day."

"Good, gonna take my time with you," Dean said, smiling and then taking Sam's face in his hands for a deep and slow kiss.

Sam answered the kiss, letting Dean set the pace and trying to gauge Dean's mood.  Even as they moved together, he wondered if Dean was responding to the stress of searching for Sam, the fear that he was going to be rejected by his brother, and needed the reassurance that this Sam was right here, wanted him and would never turn him away.  He could reassure him of his love.

Dean seduced Sam with every trick he knew.  He pulled Sam as close as possible, stroking his hands over his body.  "Want you in every way, all the time," he breathed pulling back enough to smile at Sam.  "Want you spread across that bed, naked, panting, dying to come."  Dean reached out and slid Sam's shirt over his arms and dropped it onto the floor.

"Jesus," Sam breathed, a little shocked by Dean's ardor, which was saying something, considering how focused and passionate Dean usually was.  He relaxed his body, allowing Dean to manipulate him as he wanted, and brushed kisses over any part of Dean that came into reach.

"So fucking gorgeous, Sam."  Dean smiled at him, slow and seductive, arching up slightly to lick and nip at Sam's lips while he stroked his hands up and down the bare skin of Sam's back and chest under his t-shirt.  After a few moments, he pulled back, eyes hot when they landed on Sam's slick and swollen lips.  "Fuck," he breathed, yanking Sam's shirt up and away before attacking his mouth again.  

"De, whoa," Sam breathed into the fierce assault on his mouth.  He hissed as Dean's hands rubbed, stroked and scratched at his bare back and chest.  His own found purchase on Dean's hips and gripped tight for the ride.

Dean stopped, pulled back and searched Sam's eyes.  "Too much?" he asked, voice rough like sandpaper.

"You're going to make me swoon like an old-fashioned damsel," Sam said, flushed and panting.  "Wow.  I knew you were intense, but... holy fuck."

"Don't want that happening, Sam," Dean said, wolfish smile on his face before he dipped his head to nip over Sam's collarbone.    
"Do want you naked, though."  Dropping to his knees, Dean took his time to slowly and steadily open the button fly of Sam's jeans.  He spread the material apart slowly, rubbing his cheek over the bulge of Sam's cock through his boxers.

Sam's hips hitched into Dean's face unbidden, causing him to groan at the increased friction.  "Gonna have me all naked, while you stay clothed?"   
   
Dean chuckled.  "For now," he said, tugging Sam's jeans and boxer down his hips and then helping Sam step out of them altogether.  He reached out and curled his hands into the muscles of Sam's thighs, pulling him closer so he could rub his cheek along Sam's cock and then curl his tongue just around the head to tease him.

Sam moaned and bucked a little before reaching down to stroke Dean's head in the manner one might to calm a wild animal.  

Taking Sam in his mouth, Dean hummed and bobbed his head up and down.  He licked and sucked and worked Sam's cock faster and deeper.  Dean wanted all of Sam, which meant pushing him beyond his limits to a first orgasm, so that Dean could build him up again for the next round.  He needed Sam, needed Sam to want him, and this was the best way Dean knew how to do that.

Sam's knees buckled as Dean elevated his pleasure, heart rate and blood pressure with a direct, full force assault on his cock.  He almost felt like Dean was trying to cripple him with pleasure, render him completely insensate and unable to respond at all.  Finally, he grabbed hold of Dean's short hair and fought to ease him a little.  "Whoa," he muttered.  "C'mon, De.  Easy."

Dean pulled back, settling on his heels and looking up at Sam.  "What's wrong?"

Sam took a few, deep breaths and then said, "Sorry, thought I was going to white out on you. Maybe I better sit or something."

Nodding, Dean surged to his feet to kiss Sam and then guided him backward to the bed. He tumbled them both down, falling to Sam's side before crawling up slightly to lean over him and kiss him deeply.

Sam gasped as he fell onto the bed and then groaned when Dean basically latched on his mouth again. He spread himself more comfortably on the bed and cradled Dean's head with his big hands, trying to get him to feel Sam's love for him.

Dean tasted and teased at Sam's mouth before he pulled back to smile at Sam. He nuzzled under Sam's chin and then nibbled and licked his way down Sam's chest.

"Hurricane Dean," Sam muttered as his lover returned to ravishing his body. He spread his legs wide and encouraged Dean between them.

Taking his time, Dean tasted every inch of Sam's chest before he rolled over on top of Sam's body with a grin. He nibbled at the hard nubs of Sam's right nipple while he teased the left with his fingers.

"Shit, you really are trying to kill me," Sam gasped, body arching and twitching helplessly under the onslaught. "Fuck, De."

"Too much, Sammy?" Dean asked, lifting his head and stopping his movements. He wanted Sam so much, wanted to give him everything he possibly could.

"You're overwhelming," Sam panted and rubbed his hands over Dean's back and sides. "Don't you want me to touch, too?"

Dean nodded. "Of course, I do. I love your hands on me. Just can't control myself with touching you."

Sam smiled and tugged Dean up for a soft, loving kiss. "I noticed. You're making me lose my mind with pleasure."

"Do you like it?" Dean asked, stroking Sam's chest and stomach gently.

"I like being the focus of all your attention," Sam said, "but I like being able to reciprocate, too, De.  I want to show you that I love you, too.  That I need to touch and make you feel good."

Dean kissed Sam gently.  "You show me that every day, Sam.  You made me feel so amazing earlier.  I just want to give you that, too."  Not to mention that Dean needed to lose himself in his feelings for Sam.

Sam cupped Dean's cheek and kissed back just as gently. "You do what you need then, De. I'll try and be good."

"Are you sure you want that, Sam?" Dean asked, stroking his hands up and down Sam's thighs.

"Yes, De, I do," Sam said and tugged him back into a kiss. He let go quickly to allow Dean to regain control of the pace.

Dean moaned, rocking up and over Sam to take his mouth in a deeper kiss. He braced himself and then reached out and stroked his hand from Sam's shoulder down to his hip.

Sam tilted his hips to invite Dean's touch to more intimate parts of his body. He spread his legs and hummed softly in approval at the way Dean handled him. "Yeah, De," he whispered into the kiss.

"Love you, Sam. Always want you.” Dean breathed the words down Sam's chest until he was level with Sam's cock. He rubbed his cheek on Sam's cock and then turned his head and flicked his tongue in the slit.

Sam groaned and hitched up into the soft flick of tongue.  "Cocktease," he said in a light tone. 

Dean curled his tongue around the head again before flicking it in the slit again. He finally sucked Sam down his throat with another groan, bobbing his head swift and sure.

Sam fell back with a stunned groan as Dean whipped himself up into a frenzy of sucking, threatening to cause him to break at any moment.  His toes curled tight, and he whined high in his throat, hips stuttering up and down.    
Relaxing his throat, Dean sucked and bobbed, letting Sam thrust into his mouth as much as he wanted.  He closed his eyes and hummed, cock hard and aching with a pleasurable edge of pain.

Sam blew his load with a scream he would deny forever, even if it did make his eardrums rattle.  He had been so worked up by Dean's passionate attacks during the course of the night, that his body just gave up everything in a wave that engulfed all his senses and spun his brain into space.  Which might explain the scream, plus the way he couldn't move once he finally spilled every ounce of fluid out his cock.  
   
Dean sucked and licked, swallowing what he could of Sam's come and then dipping his head down to lick him clean.  Once Sam was void of any trace of come, Dean dropped his head to Sam's hip with a whimper and exerted supreme effort not to simply stroke himself to his own orgasm.  He wanted to fuck Sam, wanted to be deep inside him, while he stared into Sam's eyes.  It took him a good handful of minutes to lift his head and then crawl up to lay beside Sam.

Sam managed to reach out and stroke Dean's side and neck.  "You're outdoing yourself."

"Just wanted, needed to do that for you."  Dean purred softly, arching his neck under Sam's touch.

"And what else do you want and need?" Sam asked, reaching down to touch Dean's cock very lightly with two fingers.

Dean shuddered out a breath, his cock reacting to Sam's teasing touch.  "I want to be inside you, Sam.  Want you to surround me."

Sam chuckled and said, "You're like a big cat stalking its prey.  Never give up on the target."  He spread his legs in answer.

"Can't give up on you, Sammy.  Want you too much for that."  Dean rolled on top of Sam, careful to center his weight between Sam's thigh and not rub against his cock too much for the moment.  The last thing he wanted was to hurt Sam with too much stimulation.

"I noticed," Sam said with a small grin.  "How do you want me, De?  On my knees?  On my side?  Riding you?  Just like this?"

Dean grinned and then leaned down to kiss Sam.  "You got the energy to ride me?" he asked, the idea of Sam above him **and** around him making him throb.

Sam sighed long and shook his head a little.  "With a great effort," he teased and heaved up to kiss Dean, pulling him down even tighter against him.

"Don't want you to have to put in too much effort, Sam," Dean teased, sinking into Sam's kiss and lowering himself over Sam's body.

"I'm ready, willing and able," Sam said, nipping Dean's lower lip and tugging on it.  "If you're of a mind, anyway."

Dean chuckled, low and dirty.  "I'm always of a mind, Sammy."  He kissed Sam hard and then rolled them so he was on his back and Sam was already loosely straddling him.

Sam grinned down at Dean an rubbed his ass helpfully over Dean's erection.  "I never noticed.  So, want me to prepare myself?" 

"Let's both do it," Dean said with a wicked gleam in his eyes.  Together, he knew they'd drive Sam even crazier.  He reached over and grabbed the lube from the bedside table, flicked open the cap and then poured some on his fingers before handing it over to Sam.

Sam's eyes got hazy with the idea of both his and Dean's fingers inside him and said, "Oh fuck, _yeah_."  He took the lube and slicked up two fingers, before hiking himself up on his knees, reaching around and just shoving one all the way in his ass.

Moaning, Dean pushed himself to a seated position and then reached around Sam to press one finger alongside the one already buried in him.  "One for one, Sam.  Wanna see how many we can get inside you."

Sam arched an eyebrow and groaned as Dean pressed his finger inside.  "You aim to double fist me, De?"  His muscles ached a little at the intrusion, but Sam breathed slowly until they relaxed again.

"Not tonight, Sammy.  Just want to see you take as many fingers as possible before you ride me," Dean said, voice low and rough while he watched Sam's face.  Once he felt Sam relax again, Dean started to slide his finger in and out along Sam's, crooking it at the entrance to his body slightly to tug at the opening a bit.

Sam tugged on his entrance as well, moving his finger in counterpoint with Dean's.  The sensations were odd, almost unappealing, but soon settled into something that ignited his nerves.  When he felt the time was right, he shoved his other slick finger inside himself with no warning to Dean.  "Oh, fuck," he growled, almost jumping off the bed.

Dean groaned, watching Sam closely.  "Fuck, so hot, Sammy."  He slid his finger in and out, opposite of Sam's movements and waited until Sam was relaxed and stretched before inserting a second finger.

With four fingers inside, stretching him wide, Sam groaned in a mixture of pleasure and pain.  "Fuck, feels so weird to have your fingers and mine in me.  Damn, fuck, fuck."

"Looks un-fucking-believable, Sam."  Dean slid his fingers in and out, groaning at the way Sam gripped them both so tight.  "So gorgeous.  Want you to ride me now... you ready for that?" he asked.

"Mmm, don't want to try for six fingers first?" Sam panted, flushed and sweat beginning to trickle down his chest.  
Dean dropped his head back, fingers gliding in and out of Sam.  "Can you take that, Sammy?  Don't want to hurt you."

"Might be a bit of a stretch," Sam said, managing to tease through the sensations.  He worked himself up and down on Dean and his fingers, chest heaving and glistening.

Moaning, Dean let Sam control the movement.  The last thing he wanted was to hurt Sam, but even he could admit how intoxicating it was to watch Sam thrust himself back on their combined fingers.  "You never cease to amaze me, Sam.  So fucking gorgeous."

"Have to stay, oh fucking hell, on my game to keep up with you, De," Sam said, sliding a third finger inside himself, this one dry.  He arched a bit as he felt muscle give a little sharply, but refused to stop.

"Careful, Sam," Dean moaned, watching while Sam took in the five fingers.  He never thought Sam would be able to do it, knew that Sam was plenty stretched now for anything they could want to do.  "Sammy, want inside you now, please."

"'m enjoying myself, De," Sam moaned, thrusting down hard on the fingers inside him.  He grinned ferally and then yanked his fingers out, pushing our Dean's as well, and collapsed on top of Dean.  "Want to fuck me then?"  

"Yeah, Sam.  God want you around me, squeezing my cock tight."  Dean wrapped his arms around Sam's shoulders, fingers digging in deep.

"May be too loose for that now," Sam teased.  "Want me to ride still?" 

Dean nodded.  "Love to watch you over me, Sam."  He grinned and dragged his hands down Sam's back to grip his ass cheeks. 

Sam arched and reached back to find Dean's cock, rubbing some of the precome over the tip and sides.  "So hard, De.  All for me." 

"Every bit for you, because of you," Dean said, smiling at Sam and stroking up his back again to tug him in closer for a kiss. 

"Just gonna sit on your lap," Sam said and hummed as he lined up and took Dean in, no pause from the first push to when he found purchase on Dean's groin.  "Whoa.  Fuck." 

Dean dug his hands into Sam's hips, tipping his head back on a loud moan.  He loved the way that Sam surrounded him, took him in with such ease. 

Sam eased up and down, just teasing Dean with movement.  "Feel so big in me, De," he whispered.  "Gonna tear me all up." 

"Sam," Dean begged, arching and writhing against Sam's body.  "Don't tease, please...god, need you." 

"Mmm, want to tease," Sam said, head falling back.  "Want to make this last." 

Dean nodded, giving in to Sam's desires, knowing that Sam would make it damn good.  "Anything you want, Sam.  Never can resist you." 

Sam smiled and moved up and down, slowly on Dean's cock.  He lifted himself a tetch higher with every stroke, but refused to rush, even as he broke into a musky sweat, all his pores opening.  "Oh God, this is fucking awesome." 

"Feels good, so good Sam," Dean braced his feet on the bed and thrust up every time Sam slid down his cock.  He loved the way that Sam could just take him in. 

"Yeah, Dean, feels good," Sam echoed and clenched tight around Dean as he hit the bottom again.  "Want you to come in me...  wish I could feel it." 

Dean tightened his grip on Sam, slamming his hips up with each stroke trying to give Sam what he wanted.  "Want you to feel it, Sam.  Want you to feel me come inside you." 

"Can feel you thrust, so good, De," Sam groaned.  "Harder.  Don't hold back, De."  He began to bounce up and down as hard and fast as he could, doing what Dean had asked for earlier. 

Moaning loudly, Dean gave everything he had to slamming his body up into Sam.  He stared up at Sam, marveling that he got to see what he looked like when he was so close to the edge of orgasm.  "Want you to come with me, Sam.  Want to feel you clenching around me." 

"Touch me, De!" Sam cried.  "Make me come for you." 

"Fuck," Dean moaned, releasing his grip on Sam's hip to bring one hand up and curl it around his cock.  "Gonna make you come with me, Sammy."  He stroked, fast and hard, just like Sam liked, using Sam's pounding rhythm to push him harder and higher. 

"Fuck, De.  Fuck me.  Yeah," Sam mumbled, whole body trembling with the effort to keep moving.  "So close, DE!" 

Dean moaned, Sam's desire pushing him that much closer to his own orgasm.  "Fuck, Sammy.  Yeah, just a little bit more.  C'mon, you can give me what I want," he said, stroking Sam's cock and rocking his hips into Sam's downward thrusts. 

"Yes," Sam moaned and spilled over Dean's fist, even as he deliberately slammed himself up and down on his cock, despite the clenching of his inner muscles.

The way that Sam simply came for him, rocking his body even through his orgasm, had Dean losing control.  He stroked Sam with his hand and thrust into his body before arching on the bed and shaking with the force of his own orgasm.

Sam kept rocking through Dean's orgasm, until he felt the cock inside him begin to soften.  He slumped down on Dean then, resting his head on Dean's collarbone.  "Not bad."

Dean snorted out a laugh.  "Not bad, my ass...that was pretty damn spectacular, Sam."  He stroked his hand up and down Sam's back, soothing and holding him close.

With a hiss that turned into a slightly pained groan, Sam angled up and off Dean's cock, though he stayed pressed to his chest.  "Jesus, I think you could stick a fist in me now.  No further stretching required."

Groaning, Dean stroked his hand down to rub his fingers lightly over Sam's still slightly gaping hole.  "Don't tempt me, Sam.  I'd love to see you like that... so blissed out from being fuller than ever before."

Sam mumbled a little and shifted as Dean stroked him, body unsure whether to register the touch as pleasant or not.  He lifted his head and smiled blearily at Dean.  "Someday, I'll let you have my body for a whole day to do with as you please."   
   
Dean shifted, cock twitching at the thought and he grinned at Sam.  "A better gift I could never imagine from you, Sammy."  He leaned up and pressed a series of gentled kisses over Sam's lips, sliding both hands up his body to cradle him to Dean's chest.

"I can tell," Sam purred.  "You're already showing signs of interest in regions that should be exhausted right now."

"They are exhausted...mostly.  But there's something about you, Sam.  You make me want more than I've ever wanted from anyone...or wanted to give anyone."  Dean stroked Sam's back, massaging his muscles and loving the pressing weight of Sam on top of him.

"It's called love, De," Sam teased him.  "You're awesome at the feeling, even if you're terrible at the word."

Dean rumbled a laugh.  "You think, Sam?"  He smiled at his lover, the one person he could and would put above all other things in   
his world...even over finding his brother.

"Yeah, De," Sam said.  "Nobody ever made me feel this loved, not even Jess.  I miss her and wish she was still alive and well... but I never would have met you otherwise."

"I wouldn't want to trade you for anything, but I didn't know how it could be until I met you.  Sometimes I wish you didn't have to go through that pain, Sam."  Dean leaned in and kissed Sam gently.

Sam opened to Dean and licked at his bottom lip.  "Love you, De."

"I love you too, my Sam."  Dean kissed him again, tangling his fingers in Sam's hair.  
~~~~~~~~~~ 

 Sam set the folders of papers he and Dean had 'borrowed' from Children's Services on the bed and sat down beside them.  "Well, here it is, the record of what happened to your Sammy." 

Dean stared at the file of papers, eyes darting back and forth while he tried to gather the courage to open it up.  "What happened to my baby brother," he said, looking at Sam a bit helplessly. 

"You don't want to look with me?" Sam asked softly.  He ruffled the papers and reached out to Dean.  "Come on, De." 

"I'm scared, Sam."  Dean looked at Sam, eyes wide with surprise at his own admission. 

Sam stood and pulled Dean into a hug, kissing his forehead.  "I understand.  If it makes you feel better, I'll go through them myself and let you know what I find." 

Dean closed his eyes and wrapped his arms tight around Sam's back.  He breathed in and out and then shook his head.  "Let's do this together, Sam." 

Sam chuckled and nodded.  "Wherever you want to start, De," he said.  "I'll follow your lead in this." 

"Let's start at the beginning.  I want to see what Sam's life was like from that night."  Dean opened the top of the file and stared down at the first page of his brother's life. 

Sam handed Dean the top sheath of papers and selected the second set for himself.  He began to read, soon frowning at the familiar sounding words about a boy who wouldn't settle down or behave, a boy who kept screaming for his family and trying to run away. 

Dean read the tale of little Sammy, a boy who called out for his De and who (even at four) managed to escape the first home to which he'd been assigned.  He teared up and then the tears spilled over while Dean remembered Sam's sweet little voice crying out in terror for Dean that night. 

Sam continued to read his papers, not noticing Dean's tears as he got lost in his own memories.  His eyes got caught on the names of Sam's second family and something rang deep in his mind.  "Oh crap..." 

"Sam?" Dean asked, turning his gaze to the side and wiping surreptitiously at his eyes. 

"These names," Sam muttered and grabbed the next set of papers.  He flipped through them and located the names of the next family.  "These names are familiar." 

Dean wrinkled his brow and took the second set of papers from Sam, scanning them.  They were a lot like the first, but with the second family, Sammy had been five and hadn't lasted even six months.  "What's familiar about them?" Dean asked.

"I've heard them before," Sam said, "a long time ago."  He rifled through more papers randomly and pulled out another set.  Scanning through them rapidly, he suddenly turned sheet white and dropped them all on the floor.

"What?!" Dean asked, panic flooding through him at Sam's look.  He was convinced that Sam had found out his little Sammy had died somewhere along the way and Dean's heart thundered in his chest.

"It's me," Sam whispered in a rasping horror of a voice.  "This is about me."

Dean blinked.  "What do you mean it's about you, Sam?" Dean asked quietly, heart racing even more and brain flooding with the possibilities.

"I remember some of these things... I was so little, so scared... and nobody was who I wanted."  Sam pressed fists to his eyes and gave a little sob.  "But I couldn't remember anymore who I wanted.  I blocked it all out when I got older, cause it hurt too much."

"You?  You're Sammy?" Dean asked, no irony in his voice when he used the nickname he'd so easily fallen into calling his lover.

"I- I don't know, De," Sam said.  "I think so.  I won't be sure until I read the rest... should I read the rest?"  He turned red eyes to Dean, afraid he was about to lose the best thing in his life.

Dean nodded.  "You have to, Sam.  We have to know."  He reached out, taking one of Sam's hands in his and tangled their fingers together.  "We said we'd do this together, no matter what."

Sam stared at their tangled fingers and said, "Find me the year 1987, De.  I need to read that one."  He rubbed at his side a little, a scar he'd never discussed with Dean.

Nodding, Dean squeezed Sam's fingers and then let go to rifle through all of the papers until he found the packet of papers containing the end of 1986 and through most of 1987.  "Looks like this might be the packet, Sam."  He ached to reach out and touch Sam, needing the reassurance his touch often gave Dean.

Sam took the sheet of papers, trembling slightly, and began to sift through them, stopping with a little cry.  "It is me," he said.  "Oh God, De.  I'm your Sammy."

Dean stared at Sam, eyes flickering between the way Sam trembled and the way he looked so stricken.  "My Sammy," Dean repeated, rubbing a hand over his face while he absorbed the idea that he'd found his brother almost a year beforehand and hadn't even known it.  They'd talked about that, about how Dean wasn't likely to recognize Sam when he saw him but the idea was still a shock.

"You’re my De," Sam whispered.  "The one I would dream about sometimes when I was little... the one who protected me and kept me warm.  The only dim recollection of love I ever had, til Jess."

Reaching out, Dean tentatively placed his hand on Sam's shoulder, squeezing him gently.  "I'm sorry, Sam.  God, I'm so sorry that I didn't find you before."

Sam lifted his head to stare at Dean with shock.  "We've been having sex for months... I'm in love with you, and you're my brother!  How can that be all you have to say?"

Dean looked away, hand dropping to his lap at Sam's words.  He thought about them, really thought about them and then stood shrugging his shoulders.  Shoving his hands in his pockets, Dean turned and walked toward the window in their room.  "We didn't know, Sam.  We had no way of knowing... and it's not like we were raised as brothers.  Though, I guess it probably goes to show why we managed to get as close as we did in such a short time."  He couldn't bear that hint of disgust he heard in Sam's words.

Sam blew out a long breath and nodded.  "You're right... I mean, there's no way we could have known, so what we did... it wasn't wrong.  But, De, I love you.  I don't want to give that up just because you're my brother.  Doesn't that make me sick?"

"Why?" Dean asked.  "Like I said, we weren't raised as brothers.  I love you, too, Sammy.  I don't ever want to give you up."  He turned, eyes bright with a flood of tears he fought back.

Sam jerked off the bed and into Dean's arms at the sight of his unshed tears.  "You mean everything to me, De.  It's only right that I've always been your Sammy.  We never should have parted."  He froze and took a step back.  "What about Jo-, uh, dad?"

Dean grabbed at Sam, pulling back into a hug.  He took a shaky breath, two tears slipping over.  "God, I thought you were going to leave me."  Resting his head against the side of Sam's, Dean let his mind wander to John.  "I don't know, Sam.  God, I don't know...but I don't want to lose you."

"I thought you were going to push me away," Sam confessed.  "That once you realized we were brothers, you wouldn't want me like this anymore. I'm still afraid it might happen."

"I don't care.  I mean I care because you're my Sammy... both Sam and Sammy."  Dean chuckled, hugging Sam in close again.  "I feel like it should be wrong, or something...but I can't find what we have as wrong.  I just can't."

"Then it's not," Sam said with a sigh.  "We weren't raised as brothers, and we won't be making any oddball babies or anything... so, yeah."  He pressed a kiss to Dean's neck.  "Not sure Jo- dad will see it the same way.  Missouri knows, I think."

Dean shook his head.  "Dad'd never be okay with it."  He sighed and turned to kiss Sam with no small amount of relief.  "You think she knew and didn't tell us?  Will she tell Dad?"

"She won't tell him," Sam said.  "And I could sense she knew something when we were with her... something she didn't want us to know.  De, the demon killed our mom cause of me..."

"Shhh, wait...back up.  You don't think Missouri wanted us to know?"  Dean asked.  It made sense, why she was coy with them about who Sam was and about finding him.  "What do you mean the demon killed Mom because of you?"

"She didn't want us to know cause we were already so close, De.  And it was something we had to find out for ourselves."  Sam pressed his forehead against Dean's.  "She was right about that."

Dean nodded.  "Yeah, I don't know that it'd have been good coming from her."  He stroked Sam's back, rubbing their noses together.

Sam smiled at Dean's affection and answered his earlier question.  "He came for me and killed mom."

"Protecting you to the end," Dean said with the absolute faith only a young son could have in a mother.  "Now I want to find him even more. We need to kill the bastard, Sammy."

"Yeah," Sam breathed, "and I should get back on training hard with my powers.  We'll need them against him... or some other weapon."

Dean nodded, looking over at the innocuous papers that changed the course of their lives.  He breathed out.  "We need to return those files, need to bury any way that Dad can find them...if he even bothers to go looking."

"Why would he?" Sam asked.  "He never bothered before.  At least, not hard enough.  Hunting was always more important."  His voice and heart hardened against the older hunter, his father, as he realized John Winchester had given him up with barely a fight.

"We looked... he looked, but yeah, finding the demon was always foremost on Dad's mind."  Dean had to admit that was the bare truth.  

"Well, we’ll find him first, De, and damn them both."  Sam kissed Dean fiercely, holding him tight by the shirt.

Dean sank into the kiss, grateful that they were on the same wavelength.  He tangled his hands in Sam's hair and kissed him with all of the love and relief he felt.

"Dean," Sam whispered into his mouth and snuggled closer.  "You are all that matters in my life."

"And you have quickly become the only thing in my life."  Dean kissed Sam, stroking his back and hugging him tight.

"I'm your Sammy," Sam whispered.  "De, do you want to know about my life without you?  I've never really spoken to you about my foster homes."

Dean sighed, nodding though he knew the stories were not good ones.  "I do, Sam.  I want to know about your life...god, I'm still so sorry that I never found you along the way."

"I'll never blame you, De, for what happened.  It was John, not you, who dropped me and left me to the mercy of the system."  Sam brushed his lips over's Dean's mouth.  "I always envied the love you had for your brother."

"I never forgot you, Sam.  I never stopped wanting to find you, to take care of you."  Dean buried his face in Sam's throat while he took a moment at the memories of losing Sam.  "I didn't speak to Dad for a good week after that night.  I stared out of the back of the Impala at the house until it was gone, the sound of your tiny voice crying for me."

"And now, you can take care of me, De," Sam said.  "As you've always wanted to."

Dean chuckled.  "Well, maybe not how I always envisioned...this relationship is far more complicated and intimate that I'd have planned."  He winked and leaned in to kiss Sam.

"What have you always wanted to do with your Sammy?" Sam asked, ducking the kiss playfully.

"I wanted to make him his favorite dinner of mac 'n cheese and links...color with him, play with him, do anything he wanted."  Dean smiled sadly.  "I wanted to do anything he wanted and felt so bad for all the times I didn't spend with him."

Sam chuckled and kissed Dean's nose.  "I think I'm a little old for a lot of those things, but I won't say no to mac 'n cheese with links."

Dean grinned.  "I'll make them tomorrow night, then."  He scrunched up his nose and then rubbed it against Sam's.  "I can't believe I get both my Sam and my Sammy all wrapped up into one person.  No worrying now that you two won't get along."

"Well, I've always had problems getting along with myself," Sam said with a little grin.  "And do I have to wait for tomorrow for my cheesy mac?"

"Well, we'd have to go out to the store to buy some if you want it tonight."  Dean grinned and stroked Sam's neck with his thumbs.  "I'll make it if you want, though."

"Will you, De?" Sam asked, voice turning soft and eyes getting wide.

Dean nodded.  "Of course, Sammy.  I'll make you dinner any time you want."

Sam grinned and nipped Dean's lower lip.  "Let's run out and get the fixings, De.  You can make up for nearly twenty years of my not having my childhood favorite."

"No one else made it for you?" Dean asked, heart breaking slightly at the thought of all the things that Sam missed out on.

"Well, I made it for myself, but nobody could make it like you, De. After all, you made it with love."  Sam winked and then kissed Dean, pulling him close by the belt loops.

Dean sank into the kiss, stroking Sam's back and then pulling back with a smile.  "I couldn't do otherwise, my Sammy."

"De, when I tell you more about my life without you... will you tell me about life with you?  I don't remember any of it, not really, and I'd like to know."  Sam stroked Dean's cheeks.  "I know how life was after John dropped me for you, but I want to hear about the happy times when we were little."

"I'll tell you everything I remember, Sam," Dean said, leaning into Sam's touches.

"What's your favorite memory, De?" Sam asked, pressing soft, almost chaste, kisses over Dean's face.

Dean stopped for a moment, tilting his head and thinking about what Sam asked.  "I think, looking back, that my favorite memories were when you'd fall asleep on me or in bed with me.  At the time, I sometimes was a bit impatient because you were so little...but once you were gone, I missed all of the moments when it was just the two of us." 

Sam smiled at the idea of little Dean allowing his baby brother to curl up to sleep with him.  "I wish I could remember that."

"Dad worried after we lost you because there were times I wouldn't sleep for a few days... except in drabs when I fell asleep exhausted.  I had a hard time without you there, without the little noises you'd make or the way you'd wind up curled up to me."  Dean smiled shyly, remembering those nights as some of the worst.  He'd learned at a young age to do with little sleep.

Sam smiled and began to push Dean toward the bed, urging him to lie flat on his back and curling into his side, head pillowed on Dean's stomach.  "Like this, De?"

Dean reached down and automatically stroked Sam's hair slightly.  "Yeah, you were so small and you'd press against me in your sleep.  Sometimes you'd have nightmares, but if you were tucked up against me, you slept through the night."

"Same as now, De," Sam said, slipping a hand under Dean's shirt and stroked over the soft skin of his abdomen.

"Yeah, that's true, isn't it?"  Dean asked with a surprised little laugh.  "I hadn't really thought about that."  He leaned down and kissed Sam's head.

Sam lifted his head to kiss Dean back.  "You hadn't thought of me as that Sammy... does it make everything seem a little different?"

"A little, but not too much."  Dean stroked Sam's hair and shoulders.  "It's kinda surreal."

Sam scratched his fingers in Dean's happy trail and then over his bellybutton.  "Yeah, totally man.  But I guess, the supernatural was always going to pull us together in the end."

"Looks like and I'm glad...I mean, not that you had to lose Jess, but I'm glad that I found you."  Dean smiled, his stomach rippling under Sam's touch.

Sam rolled and pressed kisses to Dean's stomach, before blowing a wet, juice raspberry over his bellybutton.  Laughing he rolled on his side and tickled at Dean.

Dean shouted with laughter, body rolling on the bed while he tried to grapple with Sam and stop his tickling hands.  "Stop!" he cried out, laughing all the while.

Sam laughed with him, barely able to keep tickling as he fought for his own control.  Dean seemed freer than he had in a long time, another nightmare of his personal life closed.  He felt pride swell in his heart that this was his lover... and his brother. 

Once the tickling had slowed, Dean fell back on the bed panting.  He laughed slightly, turning his head to stare at Sam with a dopey smile on his lips.  "Love you, Sammy." 

Sam grinned and kissed the dopey smile.  "Back atcha, De."  He paused and then lifted both eyebrows.  "You know... finding your little brother after all these years seems to me to be a cause for celebration!  What do you think?" 

"I think you're the smartest guy around, Sam."  Dean wiggled his eyebrows.  "What do you think we should do to celebrate? 

"Didn't you have something in mind for when you found me?" Sam asked, with a ridiculous pout. 

Dean shook his head.  "I wasn't entirely convinced that my brother would want to have anything to do with me.  I was too afraid to hope." 

Sam blew a wet raspberry on the nearest strip of Dean he could get his mouth on.  "Well, what good are you?"  He bit his lower lip and said, "Miniature golf!" 

"Mini golf?" Dean asked incredulously, laughing at Sam and tangling his hands in Sam's hair.  "Yeah, okay...we can do that." 

"Well, what do you want to do?" Sam asked, kissing Dean and then kissing him again. 

"I want to take you out for steak after we play mini golf.  You deserve to be celebrated, my Sammy."  Dean grinned and returned Sam's kisses. 

"And then?" Sam asked, stroking Dean's chest.  "We come back here and talk or wait til tomorrow for that?" 

Dean wrinkled his nose.  "What do we need to talk about?" 

"My past, your memories of little me," Sam reminded him with a poke to his chest.  "You forget all that already, oldie?" 

"Oh, that's not what I thought you meant," Dean said with a soft smile.  "I thought you meant talk," he added, using his hands to add the quotations to the words.  "We can share memories in bed after dinner." 

Sam laughed and rolled off of Dean.  "Jerk.  You know you're going to be bawling like a baby during our talk.  Don't try to deny that you're just like a girl on her period about emotional stuff.  That's why you don't like to talk." 

"Hey!" Dean exclaimed, punching Sam in the side and then rolling off the bed, "See if you lucky any time soon after that comment." 

Sam rolled off the bed, too, still laughing.  "Aw, De, don't be so touchy." 

Dean shook his head, glaring at Sam.  "Like I said...see if you get laid now, Sammy." 

Sam bounced on his toes and then skipped toward the door.  "I saw the perfect place for golf just a few block away, De.  Last one there's a rotten egg!" 

Shaking his head again, Dean let Sam skip out the door while he gathered his wallet and keys, shoving everything into his pockets.  Life with Sam was never dull and now that he knew Sam was his Sammy as well, Dean figured it was only going to get more interesting.  
 ~~~~~~~~~~ 

Sam pushed against the tightly shut doors with all the force of his not inconsiderable mind and grinned when they banged open with a noise like a gunshot. He nodded Dean ahead of him, smile twisting higher at the sight of the Colt wrapped tight in Dean's hands. Sam carried no weapons, for he needed none.

"Well, well," a smooth, cold voice said from the interior of the dark cavernous church, "you do know how to make an entrance. Pity your exit won't be so bold."

Dean clutched the Colt tighter before forcing himself to loosen his grasp on a low breath. The demon's voice echoed out from the dark, but Dean knew that Sam was easily as powerful. After all of the training he'd done, all the time spent with Missouri to be certain he tapped into the right parts of his power, Dean knew this was going to be a good one. "You'll never know what our exit is like since you won't be here to see it," Dean responded.

Sam smiled at Dean and then began to light all the candles in the church, until the whole place was lit up in flickering candlelight, throwing eerie shadows all over the walls. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

The yellow-eyed demon chuckled and said, "How alike the two of you are. John Winchester must be so proud, except, no, he's really not, is he?"

"Dad's proud of me," Dean said, winking at Sam. "Doesn't know who Sam is, though. We figured we'd spare him that detail."

Sam walked toward the resonating voice of the yellow-eyed demon, who hissed at Dean's words. "Well, don't worry, we'll tell him in Hell."

Dean frowned and cocked the gun. "You'll have to get him first," he said, grinning evilly. "And we're not going to let that happen."

Sam drifted forward and held out a hand. "You know I really like these powers you gave me. Fucked up my life completely before I met Dean, but now, I'm kinda digging them."

The yellow-eyed demon stepped out of the shadows and swept his hand toward Dean, using his powers to try and knock the colt out of his hands.

"Hold on like I taught you, De!" Sam yelled, reaching out with his own powers to help Dean keep hold of the gun.

Dean struggled under the onslaught of the supernatural forces, but he kept his grip with the gun only sliding slightly. He knew that without Sam's teaching and his help that he'd never have managed to keep hold of the gun. "Not gonna work this time you yellow-eyed bastard."

Snarling, the demon whirled on Sam. "You're supposed to lead one of the greatest demon armies to squash the human race. Don't make me destroy you or your loving brother."

Laughing, Dean shook his head. "Have you even looked at him? He's no more the leader of destruction than I am the poster boy for chastity."

"You helped him lose that title, too," the demon hissed, keeping his distance from both Winchesters. "Have you no shame, fucking your brother and taking him with you to Hell, Dean?"

Dean shook his head, grinning broadly. "Not a one... Sam's mine, always has been mine, and you gave him back to me. I supposed I should be thanking you for that, shouldn't I?"

"A bullet through the head ought to be sufficient reward," Sam said, closing in on the shifting demon.

Looking back and forth between them, the demon's eyes flashed and suddenly he began to shake.

"Nuh-uh," Sam said. "No leaving your body without permission."

Watching in amazement while Sam managed to fight off the demon's attempt to leave it's host, Dean crept forward in an attempt to keep the demon's focus on Sam. He wanted to get in as close a range as he could to be certain that he was able to send the bastard back to Hell. 

Sam gritted his teeth at the force of power he used to keep the yellow-eyes demon from escaping the body it currently inhabited. The tattoos he and Dean had gotten would protect them, but getting out of the host would allow the demon a chance to escape. "Clear shot, De?"

"Yeah, Sam," Dean responded, moving slightly forward and aiming the gun. He sighted down the barrel and blew out a quiet breath to take the shot.

The demon suddenly withdraw his attempt to leave his host and as Sam staggered, threw both him and Dean back with a tremendous surge of power. Sam hit three pews on his way to the ground, smashing one of them clean in half.

Dean flew back in a mimicry of Sam, falling against the far wall where he'd gone to try and get closer to the demon from the side. "Sam?" Dean called out, hoping his brother was still conscious.

"Ow, fuck," Sam said and then managed to throw up a shield that prevented him from being thrown out the church windows. Instead, he smacked into a few more pews, but pushed out with his own power enough to stagger the demon.

Pushing himself to his feet once Sam had deflected some of the power, Dean cocked the hammer of the gun again and raised it to try and sight the demon for a killing shot. "How much power do you have left, Sammy?"

"Infinite resources," Sam said with a rather frightening smile and pulled himself back to his feet, despite a bloody gash on his cheek and another trickling blood into his left eye.

The demon chuckled, though there was something of worry in the sound, and angled to get around them again. "Shoulda taken us up on the offer to lead armies, Sammy. You coulda had the whole world.”

Dean laughed. "This is why I won and you never had a chance." He looked at Sam, love in his eyes. "Sam doesn't want the whole world...not in the way you can give it to him."

Sam smiled and said, "Damn right, De."

The demon hissed and shook himself, ready for the last fight. "If I die, I'm taking one of you with me," he promised eyes locked on Sam.

Sighting the gun, Dean smiled meanly. "Not a chance," he said, pulling the trigger and watching the bullet shoot the demon right between the eyes as though it were moving in slow motion.

As the bullet struck home, both demon and Sam cried out and hit the floor.  There was a strange white light that illuminated the body of the demon, even as both he and Sam screamed in eerie counterpoint. And then the yellow eyes dimmed and went blank, the light faded and both voices cut off.

Dean sprinted to Sam's side, yelling for him in the cacophony of sound around him.  He dropped to his knees and pulled Sam's body into his arms.  "Sam!" he screamed.  "Sammy!"

Sam gasped for breath and held his head in agony, even as he felt Dean tug him up in his arms.  He blinked up at him and pressed his head into Dean's chest, trying to listen to his heart, to drag himself away from the feeling that his brains had been scrambled inside his skull.

"Sam," Dean breathed in relief when his brother opened his eyes and then pressed into him.  "God, okay...you're going to be fine," he said, repeating it mostly for his own benefit.  This response was not something they'd planned on.

"I think... it was like he was a part of me," Sam whispered, head pressed tight against Dean.  "He tried to take me with him, like ripping my brain apart.  Tried to leave me a vegetable."  He shuddered and rubbed at his temples.

Dean shuddered along with Sam, holding him close and stroking his back.  "Thank fuck he wasn't strong enough to do that." 

"Yeah," Sam said shakily.  "Left me with one hell of a headache, though.  And I thought the ones I used to get with visions were bad." He gritted his teeth and tried to sit up more, grunting a little at the way the world tilted on its axis.

Helping to prop Sam up, Dean kept him tight against his chest.  "Hey, no need to move so fast, Sammy.  I'm right here and we can get you back to the room when you're ready to stand up."

"Holy crap, De," Sam whispered, "we killed him... we killed the one who killed mom."  He shivered a little.  "You did it."

"We did it," Dean corrected him.  "Neither of us could have done it alone."  He leaned down and brushed their noses together before kissing Sam gently.

Sam clutched Dean's arms and hauled himself closer.  "He might have tried to turn me into his boy king, if not for you."

Dean frowned.  "Can't have that...I want you here with me and not leading the demon army, Sam."

Sam chuckled and angled his head up for a kiss, holding Dean's shoulder tight for balance.  "There's nothing to fear, as long as you're here with me, oh King of Chastity."

Snorting a laugh, Dean buried his face in Sam's throat and held him tight.  They'd done it...killed the demon and managed to be a unit.  "Love you, Sam," he breathed over Sam's skin.

Sam gripped Dean and pulled him into a kiss, eyes shut and tongue exploring.  "My De," he whispered and then grinned.  "So, what now, big brother?"

"Now, we get you back to the motel and then take the vacation we've been talking about."  Dean kissed him and grinned back, still stroking up and down Sam's body.

"Oh... the one we talked about five years ago, before we found out about my being your brother and then the black dog attacks all over the states started and then we chased the first signs of the YED uselessly and then we got waylaid by that bitch Meg and then we went chasing after dad when he got nabbed by the whackos who wanted to hunt him and all that other crap... that vacation?" Sam asked with a little smile.

Dean laughed, head tipped back until he couldn't laugh any longer.  "Yeah, that one.  I want you to myself for a bit.  No Dad, no demons, nothing but you and me and some time alone."

Despite the loud noise rattling his already fried brains, Sam smiled at Dean's laughter, which sounded better than anything else in the world.  "Just us," he agreed.  "And maybe, a house and a few cats?" 

"I don't know about the cats, but yeah...a house and just the two of us."  Dean smiled and kissed Sam's cheek.  "Now, let's get you back to the motel and get some painkillers in you."

"What's wrong with cats?" Sam asked with a sappy smile. He groaned at the idea of moving, but braced himself to climb to his feet.

Dean smiled and shifted his body to help Sam to his feet. "There's nothing wrong with cats, but we can only do that if we plan to not move again. Not sure I'm ready to completely settled down."

"Well, cats eventually then," Sam said with a little smile. He heaved himself up and leaned against Dean heavily. "Ok, home... well, our latest motel." 

"It's the closest thing to home or now," Dean said, wrapping his arm around Sam and taking as much of his weight as he could. "Let's get you medicated so we can celebrate tomorrow."

Sam smiled and kissed his nose. "Yeah, let's go make sure we can have some fun tomorrow. You should call dad, too."

Dean wrinkled his nose. "Want to celebrate with you first... Dad'll be on the road as soon as we tell him about this and I don't really want to hash it out again. Not until you and I can have some time."

"He's going to be happy," Sam said as they headed for the car. "He can finally retire."

"Yeah, he will be, but he's also going to want to interrogate us." Dean chuckled, rubbing softly at Sam's side while helping across the church's parking lot.

"Yeah," Sam sighed and nudged at Dean's side. "And then he'll lecture us about my powers... again."

Dean grimaced. "Yeah, but it worked and like Missouri told him, you've done nothing but the best with it."

"I know. Took you awhile to really accept it, too. I mean, you never doubted me, but the power scared you." Sam bumped Dean gently.

"Of course it did...but you're trustworthy, Sam." Dean kissed Sam's temple and stroked his side.

"I'm your brother and your lover," Sam said with a little smile. "And I love you more than I knew I could love anyone."

Dean grinned and hugged Sam tight. "I never imagined loving someone for life and now I have a future with you ahead of me. You're kind of amazing, Sam."


End file.
